Unbroken: Paul's Imprint Story
by teamrenesmee88
Summary: Paul has no interest in imprinting, but when he meets blonde, beautiful and broken Scarlett he does just that. Abused and afraid, Scarlett is on the run from her past, and Paul will do anything to save her from the danger that is chasing after her. (Begins as T rating but becomes M later!)
1. Meeting Scarlett

Hi guys! I am so very excited to start the story of Paul imprinting! I have actually been writing chapters to this story for a while, and have about 5 completed, but I haven't shared them because I am currently working on another story, but as I continued to write and fell in love with the story, I felt that I just had to share with you! (PS: it is rated T for now, but may change depending on how you all feel and where I take the writing!)

Don't worry, I will still be updating FF, too:) This story is going to have shorter chapters, like this one, but because of that I will try to update every other day! I am really excited about this and I hope, hope, hope you like the first chapter! I am going to switch off between Paul and his imprint's POV. xoxo

Disclaimer: So much respect for Stephanie and I own nothing! I know SM wrote Paul with Jacob's sister, but this is just my own take on things:)

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 **Paul's POV**

"Hey guys, think any of you could untangle yourself from your imprint's claws long enough to go out to the bars with Embry and I tonight?" I ask as I sling my shoulder around Jake and roughly punch him in the arm.

"Why would I go to the bars with you?" Jake laughs and shakes his head as he effortlessly ducks a punch from me. "I think I have seen enough of the poor, unsuspecting girls that you destroy in one night stands."

Everyone laughs, and I roll my eyes, though I can't help but laugh internally a little bit; what they are saying is definitely true.

"Laugh all you want," I moan as I lower myself into a seat and rest my hands behind my head. I cross my legs on the chair in front of me and ignore the annoyed stares I get from other customers. "But I don't see you getting any ass, Jake."

"Shut your mouth," Jake speaks between gritted teeth. I notice him squeezing his hands tightly into fists and laugh. Jake, hell, any of the guys who have had the misfortune of imprinting, have this weird thing where if you even so much as mention their girlfriend's name in any sort of "disrespectful" way, they will just about kill you and everyone you love. I roll my eyes; takes out all the fun.

"How is that going, by the way?" Seth asks, and now I _really_ roll my eyes.

"Shut up Seth," Jared mumbles and I laugh and hit Seth upside the head. He narrows his eyes at me but doesn't try anything; smart kid.

"Great," Jacob begins, and I know I am not the only one who notices the way that my usually bro-esc wolf friend turns into a freaking puddle of water on the damn sidewalk.

"Way to go Seth," Quil moans, speaking all of our inner-monologue.

Ever since Jake started dating that little, and hot, I must admit, vampire girl, she is every thought he has ever thought in I swear to God, five months. The "no ass" that I was referring to, has much to do with the fact that her bloodsucking father basically told Jacob that if he touched her before she was physically 18, although I have no idea how the hell _that_ works because she is technically five, he would suck the life out of him and then bring him back to life just to do it again. I must admit, though, it has been rather funny while in wolf form seeing little Renesmee Cullen who I always pictured as some little girl that hung around the house test every ounce of willpower that Jacob most definitely does not have.

I laugh to myself and look around the town. We came into the small town of Forks today to get something to eat after our patrol. Emily is out of town, so our usual place to land for muffins and steaks and chili and basically everything else, is currently not an option. My eyes catch something blonde flowing in the wind, and I turn my gaze to land upon a petite girl with dirty blonde hair.

"Hey," I hit Embry's shoulder and point in her direction. "$50 if you could successfully nag her number."

Embry scoffs. "Oh please, might as well make it $100."

I smack him harder now. "You're on! Go get it little boy!"

"Woop woop!" Jake cat-calls as he stands up and starts heading in her direction. We all remain rather unusually quiet as we watch him; while Embry is definitely not some dork with no game, he is no me.

I notice him reach her and then her head picks up from whatever paper she had been hiding her face in. I notice a smile that sparkles even from this far away, and that's when I notice other things too. She has long, tan legs, and I trace my eyes up the length of her body, which is skinny in all the right places and curvy in _all the right places._

"Whew," I whistle. "Maybe I should have gone for that one."

Jacob rolls his eyes. "You're going to have a terrible life when you're a father some day, knowing all that shit you thought about girls when you've got your own."

"Thanks dad."

Everyone snickers, and then I see the girl's body shake as she laughs. A sudden urge comes over me where I want to make her shake from something else.

"Gentlemen," I nod jokingly as I stand up and then make my way to where they are standing. As soon as I reach them I latch my arm around Embry and then do that smile thing that has gotten many girl's pants off.

"Hey, hope this guy's not bothering you." I catch him in a death grip and then rub my first against the top of his head. He struggles against my strength and then finally I let him go with a laugh. Embry looks like he is about to kill me... and now I know why.

Up close, I realize that this girl isn't just hot, I mean she is _smoking_ hot. Her long legs that I had noticed are tanned and smooth and fucking shining. Her white shorts cling to her in oh such the right way and her shirt, though just a loose V-neck, is strewn to the side a little, showing off the corner of a black bikini.

Her eyes go up to mine but my eyes stay at her chest. I didn't know it was possible to have such smooth looking skin.

She pulls up at the collar and when I finally look at her face I catch the end of her rolling her eyes. "So Embry," She begins as she holds the map out to him. "What were you saying about that bookstore?"

Her lips are full, fuller than natural but I don't think she got those stupid injections everyone is always talking about now-a-days. Her nose is small and her cheekbones are defined and that is when I notice that her collar-bone is defined as well; I am not sure why that turns me on so much.

Her cheeks are rosy which is a nice contrast to her hair that is dirty, dirty, oh _fuck_ I hope she is dirty, blonde which looks so soft I argue with myself not to just reach out and touch it.

"Oh," Embry clears his throat and leans closer to her. It pisses me off, but I know that I haven't used any of my real game on this hottie yet. "It's a little less than a mile from here, right by the water. It's not huge but I'm sure it'll have what you're looking for. If not I know the owner and he's pretty cool so he could probably order it."

"Oh," The tension drops in her shoulders and I immediately want to put tension back just for a whole different reason. "Thank you so much! That makes it so much easier because I've just been walking around here like an idiot with this stupid map that I swear is from the 1900's." She giggles and I watch the way that she bites the corner of her lip. Sexy. "I've got to get these books before school starts and I totally procrastinated."

"I'm Paul by the way." I hold out my hand and plaster on that smile and wait for her to look, but she doesn't.

"Yeah hi Paul," She mumbles and then shakes my hand without even looking in my direction.

I hear Embry snicker but push down the annoyance that I am beginning to feel rise in my chest. Who the hell does this girl think she is?

"So you said you moved," Embry continued, and the girl nodded her head. She seems to be able to answer him. "Where from?"

Her eyes drop to the floor before she regains her confidence. "Oh I've been a little bit of everywhere. My parent's job's take them all around the country so this is just the newest one."

She is lying. I know that she is, though Embry doesn't seem to have any idea.

"Oh, cool," He shrugs. "Well, if you need any help or anything you could always give me a call."

"I will," She smiles and then peers down at the part of what I now know to be the map with a scribbled down name and phone number. Holy shit; this asshole really did it.

"Hey," I reach for her arm and she winces away from my grasp. "Woah," I laugh. "I'm not going to bite you." If only she knew.

Her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath and then finally looks at me.

I nearly fall to the ground.

For a second everything stops. I can't hear, I can't see, I can't speak, I even think I forget how to breathe. It is if the world stops spinning, and then it starts again, completely on a different axis and spinning in the opposite direction, as I struggle to understand what the hell just happened and how to stay on my feet.

I think Embry might have been saying something, because when he shoves me I finally brake out of my trance, only to see this girl who is honestly the most beautiful, perfect girl I have ever laid my eyes on, looking at me like I am certifiable.

"Oh, ugh- I, ugh," I hold out my hand again and she jumps away. Jesus, this girl sure is jumpy. "I'm Paul."

She nods her head slowly, and the hints of a smile pull up on her red lips. "You already said that."

"Did I?" I can't even fake coolness at this point, so why even try?"

"Yeah," She laughs, and I love the way that her skin crinkles just slightly around her eyes when she does. Damn those eyes. They are pale blue with a whole lot of green and huge and shining and I just realized that everything on this girl is fucking shining.

"Do you, ugh, so you just moved here?" I struggle to find conversation.

"Yeah," She answers slowly, quickly looking towards Embry who is trying to cover his mouth to keep from laughing too hard. "Like I said," She mumbles at the end.

"So where are you going to school?" I am desperate to keep the conversation going, to keep her here and keep her interested. "Probably Forks," I mutter an answer to my own question,

She squints her eyes at me. "Why probably Forks High?"

"Well, you just look like you would," I stammer.

She raises her eyebrows. "And what exactly does a girl that goes to Forks High look like?"

Embry can't hold back the laughter now, and I try to discreetly shove him in the gut when she isn't looking, but I know that she saw. "Well, I- ugh, well- nothing," I finally finish.

She nods her head. "Well I'm glad to hear that I look like nothing, but I will be attending school at the reservation, so it appears your detective skills need a little work."

"The reservation?" I nearly blurt. "I work there."

Her eyes nearly bug out of her head. "You work there?"

"Well I coach," I clarify, not wanting to sound too much like a pedophile. Stupid, Paul, just stupid! "But don't worry I'm not like a head coach or anything, I mean I don't teach too, I just come in to work with some of the football players. I went to Forks too, I could show you the ropes, the best make out spots, the food to avoid, anything you want, really." I cross my arms confidently over top of my chest and I don't know what I am expecting, but her for to burst out laughing is not it.

"Okay, and if that is your flirting that really needs some help too." She rolls her eyes and then turns to Embry. "Nice meeting you Embry, I'm sure I'll see you around."

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Make out spot? Really Paul? I hadn't even thought about what I was saying, it just honestly was one of the things that I knew best about my time in high school. "Wait!" I call after her. I go to reach for her arm but then pull back when I remember how she reacted before. She turns slowly, and I notice how she takes in my large stature standing over her, much closer now, and tucks her hands around herself, slinking down in a way. I take a step back and I notice her stand up straighter.

I search my brain for something, for anything to say, but come up short. My brain stopped working a hell of a long time ago. "What's your name?" I ask quietly, softly even, and it is so unlike me, but something that I somehow know that she needs, and I notice her eyes dart up to mine in surprise.

"S-Scarlett," She replies uneasily.

Yep. The name suits her attractiveness level by about 100%. Kill me now.

I blink, and when I open my eyes again her back is to me as she heads in the opposite direction. I want to chase after her, but I have this distinct and overwhelming feeling that I am going to have to be doing a lot of chasing, and that this one is going to be a damn marathon.

Embry is laughing so hard I shove him to the ground and then stomp back to the rest of the pack. They all look at me, surprised by my sudden anger, as I pass by them and head straight for the woods.

"What happened?" Jacob calls after me. "She didn't go for you?"

"Wasn't into your rock-like muscles and sensitive personality?" Jared shouts.

I growl and take off for the forest. I need a release. As soon as I am out of sight I shift and then take off running, no clear destination in sight, but an anger that I can't even begin to understand overtaking me; I never wanted to imprint, hell, this shouldn't have happened, especially to _me_! But then I think of her face and I find myself whining. I don't want to hurt her, and I think I finally realize that, that is why I am so upset.

I have never not hurt a girl I have been with before- not physically, of course, but I was a get what I want and then leave type of guy. I don't want to do that to her, but I am afraid that I don't know how not to.

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Please review so I know how you like the first chapter!

I have the next chapter done so if I get a good response I'll post asap! Much love:)


	2. The First Day

I know this chapter is a little longer than I planned to write for this story, but I think it works, so let me know if you like it or not:) I sure hope you do!

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 **Scarlett's POV**

I step in front of the full-length mirror in my room and then take a deep breath. This is the first time I have been in any other school other than the one I attended K-10th in, in Massachusetts, but that's not the story I am telling everyone.

I hadn't spoken to my aunt in years, and when I finally reached out to her the terms were simple. I could come live with her as long as I was comfortable being left alone. At least the part about my guardian being away for work a lot wasn't necessarily a lie.

My phone dings on my nightstand and I look down at it nervously. Even though my mother let me go, I can't help but think that this is all some sort of cruel joke. What if she changed her mind, or even worse, what if _he_ did? I shiver at the thought and then reprimand myself for being so paranoid and pick up my phone.

I squint my eyes at the phone number that I do not recognize and then my lips come up into a small smile.

 _Paul and I wanted to say good luck on your first day! –Embry._ Another text comes a few seconds later. _And Paul._

I giggle and can't help my mind from flashing back to Paul. Embry had been nice, and don't get me wrong he was definitely not terrible to look at, but Paul, whew. Paul was _hot_. I was attracted to him in a way I have never been before, which only made it that much worse that he was such a jerk.

I drop my phone into my book bag and throw it over top of my shoulders and then taking one final look at my appearance. I had chosen to let my naturally thick and wavy hair dry naturally after my shower, brushed it out and then called it a day; my hair has way too much of a mind of its own to actually style it. I put on more makeup than usual, but I don't think I overdid it, and after trying a thousand different dresses, I decided on a casual, white, floral dress with light pink flowers on it. I sigh and then step out of my new bedroom. This day is going to happen whether I like it or not, so I might as well face it with what little confidence I can mutter up.

When I first get to school I feel like a little girl in a sea of adults; like everyone else has friends and activities and a clear destination and I am a newborn baby just waiting for someone to pick me up and drop me off wherever the hell I am supposed to be. I take a steadying breath and nod my head. I can do this.

I pick up my schedule from the office that I find rather quickly; thankfully the reservation isn't that big of a school, and then somehow manage to open my locker after 15 attempts; locks are not really my strong suit. I take the lock off and throw it right in the trashcan; there is no way in hell I would be able to use it, so might as well just leave it unlocked.

I pick up a notebook and the textbook that Embry helped me find by directing me to that bookstore the other day, and then head to my first class. Everyone seems to already have _so_ many friends. I duck down and head to the back of the room.

This is not normal. I was not weird, hell, I was popular even at my old school. I poured myself into as many extracurricular activities that I could to be away from the house the most often, and that resulted in a lot of friends and a _very_ hefty schedule. I don't know what to do with myself now that I don't have anyone to distract me; it gives me too much time in my own head, and that frightens me.

"Hi!" A beautiful girl, and I mean _beautiful_ girl plops down in the seat next to me and then sits up very straight. "I'm Nessie Cullen," She holds her hand out to me and I try not to show my surprise as I shake it.

"I'm Scarlett," I reply quietly. Not only am I taken aback that she is offering me a handshake, because honestly how many teenage girls now a days offer handshakes, but she also has the weirdest name I have ever heard in my life.

"I know," She sighs dramatically and then flips her perfect hair. I swear I have seen her dress on fashion models before, not to mention those _amazing_ heels. "It's a weird name. You should hear my full name; my boyfriend gave me this nickname because he felt bad for me."

I giggle and then look back towards her shoes. "I love those shoes."

"Really?" She looks down at her platform sandals skeptically. "Do you want them?"

My eyes bulge. "Ugh, no?" I reply hesitantly.

Nessie shrugs. "You can have them if you want. My aunt bought them for me and I was running late sleeping in _again_ so I just let her pick my outfit out."

Something in that explanation catches my attention. "Your aunt?" I question, hope popping up into my mind. Is it possible that the very first person I talked to at Forks high understands maybe just a little bit what my situation is like?

Nessie nods. "My aunts and uncles and parents and I all live in the same house. Very weird, I know."

"Oh." I try not to be disappointed. "No, not weird."

"You met Embry and Paul the other day, didn't you?"

"Ugh," My voice falters. I knew that this town was small, but I had no idea it was _this_ small. "Yes?"

"My boyfriend is really good friends with them," She smiles at me. "Best friends actually. Maybe we'll be seeing a lot of each other then, hm?"

Before I can figure out what this very beautiful girl who just doesn't look like she belongs in this worn out school means, the teacher is starting class, and I am deciding that this may not be the worst start of a first day, but it most definitely is the weirdest.

After class Nessie walks me back to my locker and then to the gym where I have gym class. I know that most girls probably find it weird, but I slip into the bathroom to change into my gym clothes. After a few months and a few phone calls home he had grown smart enough not to leave bruises on my legs or arms, but underneath my clothes was an entirely different story.

Even though I haven't been hurt in a few weeks, there are still a couple of bruises that are pale yellow covering my abdomen, and one particularly bad one across my back that is healing particularly slowing. At this point I know the distinct colors of a bruise so well I could probably be an expert. Black. Purple. Blue. Green. Yellow. Repeat.

The funny part is that I don't even remember how I got that one.

I emerge from the stall with a very, very short pair of shorts on and a simple tee-shirt. I accidentally ordered an extra small instead of a small, and then I had been too nervous to ask my aunt for any more money to buy more, so I just decided that I would have to make do. Here's to hoping that my butt cheeks aren't peaking out of my shorts as I walk.

I follow a group of three girls outside and then notice that everyone wearing the matching gym uniform as me is walking along the track. Some girls are lying are lounging on the turf, flirting with boys and getting some sun. I cross my arms over top of my chest and then sigh as I begin to walk alone. Hey, at least it's warm.

"Scarlett!"

I stiffen at my name and can't help the panic from quickly flowing throughout my veins. I turn towards the sound and then quickly notice the one and only Paul from that day spent exploring the very small and even more so dull town of Forks.

He is holding a football in his _very_ muscular hands and has a cutoff shirt on, showing off the muscles that I already knew he had, but are suddenly on display. I gulp as he waves me over.

I hesitate for a moment. Should I? I mean, I don't dislike Paul, but the fact that he couldn't stop staring at my chest isn't exactly the type of quality I look for in a new friend. Then again, he had texted and wished me luck today, and that was pretty cool. With a sigh, I walk to the turf to meet him.

"Hi," I speak hesitantly. I lean out to hold onto the thin fence that is separating the track from the field and lean into it.

"Hey," He speaks, his mouth breaking into a wide smile. The way that he twiddles that football between his hands is really freaking attractive. I scold myself for my thoughts.

"How's your first day going?"

"It's fine," I nod my head. "Everyone is very… welcoming."

Paul's face drops, and right then I can tell that he can make out the sarcasm that I frequently use, yet most people never actually pay enough attention to pick up on. It surprises me. "Are they being mean to you?" He asks, and I swear his grip tightens around the football. I stare at it and wonder if he will actually pop it.

"No they're fine," I reply quickly, wanting to get off this particular subject. "I met your friend."

"My friend?"

"Yeah, Nessie or whatever her name is," I clarify.

"Oh," Paul laughs lightly. "Yeah, we're best friends."

I don't really know what to do with that, so I change the subject again. "What are you doing here?" Paul raises his eyebrows, and I realize that I probably sounded like a complete douche. "I mean," I clarify, attempting to backtrack, "Not that it bothers me that you're here; I mean it's fine, like it's none of my business I'm just…" My voice trails off and I look up at Paul to see an amused smirk on his very attractive face.

"What?" I question, trying to come off as tough, but failing miserably.

"Nothing," Paul presses his lips into a straight line and then re-positions his feet. "I'm here working with some guys for the game this Friday. Are you coming?"

"Oh, right," I nod my head. "Probably not."

"Why not?" Paul asks.

"Well, I mean I don't really know anyone," I can't help but giggle. "It might be kind of awkward."

Paul smiles. "You could come with Embry," He suggests.

I actually laugh now. "I barely even know Embry."

"You barely even know me too," He shrugs.

"Well that's why I wouldn't go to the game with you if you asked me either."

Paul laughs and I join in and then bite my lip and shift my gaze towards the ground. What am I doing?

"Well did you go to the games at any of your other schools?"

I nearly correct him with just one school, but thankfully find some self-preservation and stop myself. "Well," I begin uneasily, shifting nervously on my feet. For some reason, I can tell this isn't something that I necessarily want Paul to know. I smile nervously and then dart my eyes over at the cheerleaders that seem to be practicing at the same time as the football team; damn, when do these kids even go to class?

Paul follows my gaze and then his mouth drops. "No," He begins, his eyes widening as he leans his head towards me. "You were a cheerleader? Scarlett no."

"It was a very prestigious team!" I attempt to explain myself, though the truth is in the way that a few cheerleaders just happen to giggle right at that exact moment and all fall on the ground laughing. I roll my eyes; my life is so unlucky.

"I bet," Paul laughs and then leans against the fence himself. I stiffen and straighten up. "So are you going to try out for the cheerleading team here?"

I look back towards that group of girls and shrug. "I don't know," I sigh. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll do something else."

"More?" Paul widens his eyes. "Are you saying you play any real sports?"

I roll may eyes. "You better watch yourself, some girls will murder you for that kind of talk."

"You think?" He lowers his voice in mock seriousness and I play along.

"Seriously," I whisper and lean in. "I once heard about a football player who went around telling people that cheerleading wasn't a sport, and then was kidnapped from his bed in the middle of the night, never to be seen or heard from again."

Paul pretends to ponder this deeply. "What about football coaches? Have you heard anything about them?"

I giggle. "I think you're safe."

"Good," Paul laughs and then stands up straight again. "So no other sports."

"Why do you say that? Do I not look like a sporty girl?" I challenge.

"Not at all," Paul laughs. "You just never answered my question and then told me a story about cheerleaders murdering a guy who said it wasn't a sport, so I just put two and two together."

I laugh and then shake my head. "Actually, I play softball, soccer, cheerleading, volleyball, tennis in my spare time, obviously track because I am used to running away from creepy guys who come up to me on the side of the street," I narrow my eyes jokingly at him and he laughs. "And that's not even including my clubs."

"Wow," Paul actually seems impressed. "Well, might as well hit me with them now that you're on a role."

I giggle. "Well do you want to know?"

"Of course I do," His voice softens.

"Alright well let's see, at my old school I was president of the student council, editor in the yearbook club, vice president of the debate team, although that is due to a _very_ rigged election and I hold strong in my belief in that even though I don't go there anymore, and then of course there's the key club which I was _very_ active in, and I spent a short yet very proud period of time in the choir although they kicked me out because I have absolutely no musical ability whatsoever but they felt bad so the band adopted me and I had a very intense connection with the electric triangle."

Paul bursts out laughing and finally my face falls into my hands. "Embarrassing but true," I giggle and then bite my lip to stop my laughter.

"Jesus," Paul shakes his head admiringly at me. It surprises me how intense his eyes bare into mine, and I shift uncomfortably underneath my feet. "Why did you do all that? You're like superwoman or something."

My laughter dies down rather quickly and I nod my head. I plaster a fake smile onto my face and nod my head. "Yep," I reply, although my voice is just a little too high. I pray he doesn't notice.

"So you're going out for some teams, right?" He shoves my arm and I wince just a little bit but am able to hide it rather well.

"Y-yeah," I reply hesitantly. "Well, I don't know."

"You don't know?" Paul's voice softens again. "Why not? I'm sure you're 100 times better than all the other little girls out here."

I feel myself blush. "Well," I clear my throat. "I mean, I think it might be nice just to, I don't know, relax for a little while. I've just never really had time to do nothing." I shrug. "It was a stupid thought, I probably will."

Paul's eyes become deeper, and suddenly I am transfixed. "I don't think it's a stupid thought at all."

I suddenly step away from him, uncomfortable and confused as to why the hell I just told him all that. It's just, he isn't staring at my chest, or I guess this time it would be my legs, the way that he had when I first met him. He doesn't seem as cocky, I mean yeah he still is obviously confident, but it isn't nearly as offsetting as it was before. I am so confused I might as well just give up at this point.

"Well I've got to get back to, ugh," I nod off at the track, not able to finish my sentence because it is obvious that I have absolutely nothing to get back to. Even so, I wave at Paul and offer him a small smile, ignoring the way that his face falls, and then turn away from him.

I take a steadying breath and only make it a few steps before something tall, blonde and platinum blocks my path. I stumble back and then look up at her with question in my eyes.

"Ugh, hello?" I speak slowly.

"I saw you talking to Paul," She speaks, and I can immediately tell that this is not good. Perhaps it is just radar I acquired over the year for when someone is looking to start a fight, but hell I feel it right now. I look over to where I left Paul, and am surprised to see him in the same spot, watching this interaction with a pale face; he looks almost… worried.

"Y-yeah," I stutter, turning back towards the girl and plastering a small smile on my face. "I'm Scarlett."

The girl laughs. "Scarlett, that's an interesting name. The only girl I've ever heard with that name before is a porn star."

My cheeks flush a thousand shades of red. I nod my head, smile at her, and then go to pass by, although she has other ideas. She steps in front of me and then cocks her head to the side, a fake and dangerous smile on her over-lined lips.

"I think you should sit with us at lunch today. There are just a few things that you obviously need explained."

"I think I'm good," I reply slowly, attempting to keep the sarcasm that I just _need_ to use out of my voice. "But thanks."

"That's not how it works," Her forced smile looks actually painful it is so strained.

"Well," I hold out the word. "I'm not trying to make anything work, right now I'm actually just trying to walk, so." I shrug and then smile widely at her. This chick is really testing my patience.

It is as if she flips a switch. Her fake, plastic smile drops and she takes an intimidating step closer to me, although I merely roll my eyes. Trust me, little high school girls aren't what scare me; I have taken lamps to the head, I think I can handle this chick with the chicken arms.

"You don't talk to Paul," She speaks lowly.

My eyes widen. "Paul?" I nearly laugh. "This is about Paul? Ugh, I met that guy one time before today. He is the one who was talking to _me_ , so if you have a problem then I think you need to take it up with your boyfriend who can't seem to stop flirting with me." I should have known that Paul had a girlfriend. A fresh wave of anger and a little bit of hurt flows through my body, but I am used to being let down.

I actually think I see fire in her eyes.

"And what? You think you're so much hotter than me that he would find the need to flirt with _you_ over me? Please."

I blink a few times. "You said it, not me."

The girl who I just realized I don't even know the name of tenses her jaw and then takes a sudden and unexpected step back. She smiles and lets out a slow breath. Is this girl having a mental break? "You know what, you are so right." I guess I should have noticed how she took the cap off of her Gatorade water bottle instead of just taking a drink, but by the time I even question it, it is too late.

I gasp as she pours the entire contents of her water bottle right over top of my head, soaking me in an instant. My mouth drops and I hold my hands out in complete shock. Did this girl really just do that? I open my eyes and look at her with complete and total surprise, only to see her smile and flip her hair.

"Just to cool you off," She whispers, before hitting her shoulder into mine as she passes.

Now alone, I lose the anger that had first appeared when she first dropped the contents of her wattle bottle on me and look around nervously. All the cheerleaders are staring at me with wide eyes, a few girls are covering their mouths to hide their laughter, while even more are just laughing openly. Even the football players seemed to stop practice to stare.

As soon as I feel the tears beginning to condense in the corners of my eyes, I realize that I need to get the hell out of here. While usually I would _never_ choose home over school, I decide that since things are different now, there is nothing stopping me from going back to my empty Aunt's house and sleeping and crying and hating life until I just can't feel anything anymore.

I angrily brush the wet hair out of my eyes and then head off angrily towards the parking lot. I hop the short fence and then try to hold the tears back until I am on my way; the last thing I need is for the entire school to witness not only my very public dousing, but also my crying afterwards.

"Scarlett!"

I hear my name called behind me, and I think I know exactly who is calling it, but that only makes me angrier.

"Scarlett!" He calls again when I don't answer, and then he reaches me and pulls on my arm.

I instinctively jerk away and then put a good amount of distance between us. I bite back the panic and then immediately after that have to bite back the tears that are threatening to boil over. "Don't touch me!" I yell at Paul, who is looking at me with what appears to be regret and remorse in his eyes, which I can't understand at all.

"I am so sorry Scarlett," He tells he hesitantly. I can tell that he wants to come closer, but I know that my reactions are keeping him at bay. "I didn't know she was going to do that- I- I,"

"You what?" I suck in a sob and then swallow down the lump in my throat, only for it to reappear immediately. It is becoming more and more difficult not to cry. "You didn't know that your girlfriend would be mad that you were flirting with the new girl?"

"My girlfriend?" Paul repeats, surprise in his tone. "Is that what she told you?"

"She didn't have to," I roll my eyes. "Can you just please leave me alone?"

"Wh- Scarlett she's not my girlfriend. But I am sorry that she did that. Please, just let me take you home."

"No," I shake my head and then reach for my car door, only as soon as I realize it is locked, is exactly when I realize that I do not have my keys. I whimper and rest my forehead against the top of my car.

"Scarlett?" I hear Paul question gently.

I let out a long, calming breath and then stand back up. I angrily swipe at my eyes and then cross my arms. "Can you get my keys for me?"

"I'll just take you home." Paul takes a step forward and I take one back. His eyebrows scrunch as he examines my movements.

"I don't want you to take me home," I tell him quietly. Even though I am not necessarily afraid of Paul, I mean he _is_ a huge, muscular man with some kind of jerk complex that I can't figure out because his personality changes every five minutes.

"I'm not going to- I mean- I just want to take you home. I'm not going to hurt you or,"

"Are you going to get my keys or not?" I interrupt him before he finishes.

Paul's face falls. "Scarlett I,"

"Great." I turn on my heel and take off towards the woods at the back of the parking lot. I don't really have a destination in mind, but I don't care.

"Where are you going?" Paul calls after me.

"I'm leaving!" I shout back, not even bothering to turn around.

"What do you mean you're leaving?" I hear him, but his voice is more faint this time. "Do you even know where you're going?"

"Just leave me alone!" I scream, my arms still crossed over top of my chest in an attempt of keeping myself held together as I take off running towards the woods.

As soon as I am in the safe confides of the forest, I find the nearest tree and allow myself to slide down it. I barely even feel the sharp branches prick my bare thighs as I sit down, but that is probably because I have gotten so used to expecting pain, that is surprises me when it doesn't come, not when it does.

I hear a branch snap to my right and look around nervously. After a few minutes when I realize that no one is there, I cover my face with my hands, and start to cry.

* * *

Please let me know what you all think!

Review, review, review! Xoxo


	3. A Crazy Saturday Night

Hi everyone! I'm really, really sorry about the delayed update. I'd make an excuse but really I just ran into some really bad writers block, lol. No need to fear though, because I am back on track and can't wait to post a ton of chapters!

This chapter is in Scarlett's POV but the next one will be in Paul's! Enjoy!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I seriously can't handle another math problem.

I throw my AP statistics book to the floor and don't even bother to check it when I hear a rip. It is Saturday night, and here I am sitting in my room, on my second bag of chips while doing homework that isn't even due for a week.

I pick up a worn and tattered copy of my favorite book resting on the nightstand and flip to a random page, but then after a few minutes when I realize that I am merely re-reading the same words over and over and over again, I throw that on the ground too.

I nervously strum my fingers against my thighs and crack my neck. This whole being alone thing is entirely new to me; I have no idea what to do. Even more than that, I am afraid to be in my own head. I can't have a second without doing anything because then I will begin to think of things that I know I shouldn't and memories that I need to forget and then- no.

Abruptly, I push off of my bed and then head down my stairs towards my front door. I don't even bother grabbing my coat as I step out into the brisk summer air that I now have come to know as Forks, Washington.

I don't even know where I am walking, but I walk anyways. I walk to places that I have never been before, looking for anything, something that will distract me and keep my brain working.

My aunt's neighborhood contains suburban looking homes that all look alike, expensive but obviously for people who don't have the time or the desire to put that much care into making their home look person. After a while of walking the houses become more spaced out and smaller, and this is exactly what I need.

I stare at the yards and the trees and the lights on in the kitchen and wonder what is going on behind closed doors- you never really know what is going on behind closed doors after all.

I pass by a small group of kids playing football in the front of one of the yards and smile politely, though I continue on. Believe it or not, this whole outsider thing is weird to me; my entire life I spent on the inside, because that is where I _needed_ to be. My weekends were packed with anything and everything that could keep me away from the house, and that resulted in many friends and many parties and many, many people that knew my name. Now, I doubt that anyone knows my name at all.

A car pulls up beside me and my entire body stiffens, although I keep walking. Pretend like it's not there, and maybe it will go away. Pretend. Pretend. Pretend. My heart is beating a thousand times in my ears and my skin is so cold my teeth are chattering. My legs are frozen but I keep yelling at them, "Move! Move! Move!" He found me. He found me.

"Scarlett!"

I hear a familiar voice, but one that I am not expecting; one that makes the tension drip off of me like rain and my eyes close in pure and overwhelming relief.

I turn on my heel and then smile an actual genuine smile as I squint my eyes in the window. "Renesmee Cullen," I speak slowly. "Are you stalking me now?"

"I probably should be if you're going to be walking around at 10 pm alone!"

I giggle, and peer into the car. "Hi Jacob," I offer a small smile and he smiles back.

"Hey Scarlett," He says, "Want a ride?"

I look nervously into the car and then shake off my worries. I know Renesmee, and even though I have only seen Jacob in the week I have been at school when he picks Renesmee up, I know him too, and I know that he is a good guy. He is nothing to fear.

"No I'm good," I still answer, although I am not sure why.

"Oh come on," Nessie rolls her eyes. "It's the least you could do for lying to me."

My mouth drops. "I did not lie to you!"

"Oh yeah?" She challenges, "You said you had things to do for your mom. What did she need done? A blueprint of Forks?"

I open my mouth to lie but then I shut it again, there is no use explaining when I know that she can tell that it would all be bullshit.

"Alright fine," I grumble and then get into the back of the car.

"Buckle up," Jacob tells me as he rubs Nessie's thigh. I stare at the movement, so casual, so gentle, before tearing my gaze away. "We're going to a party."

I gulp and suddenly my eyes grow big. "A party?" I murmur, although I doubt that either of them heard.

A few minutes later Jacob pulls into the driveway of one of those small, spaced out houses, this one with red siding. He pulls Renesmee to his side as they walk towards flaming crimson. I cross my arms and follow in step behind them, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. I can make out at least ten figures illuminated by the bonfire.

As we get closer, I immediately recognize one of those faces as Embry, the nice guy who had helped me out with directions on my first voyage into town, and then I remember a few of the other faces as the guys that were sitting at a restaurant a few feet away.

"Scarlett! Is that you?" Embry calls out, and then he does some sort of whistle call thing and before I know it he is wrapping his arms around me and I grow stiff as a board. He lets me go and I immediately relax.

"H-hey," I press my hair behind my ear and then look around at the rest of the group.

"Hey guys meet Scarlett," Renesmee introduces me, and I offer everyone a small wave and a hesitant smile. All the guys look exactly like Embry and Jacob, tall and muscular and dark and pretty attractive; if I didn't know better I would wonder if they were all brothers. They all say their hellos, but after a little while they all seem to go back to their casual conversation. I breathe a breath of relief and then shift on my feet uncomfortably.

I notice an empty log and then go to sit down on it.

"Hey."

A masculine voice surprises me and I jump up with a gasp.

"Oh, sorry," Paul holds out his hands and I jump back again. His eyebrows scrunch as he takes in my odd behavior. It's not that I am afraid of Paul, it's just that he looks like _him._

"Oh, ugh, hi Paul," I mumble and then shake away my ridiculous panic. I am safe; I repeat that multiple times in my head. "How was the game?"

"Hm?"

"The football game?" I raise my eyebrows at him and he finally seems to break away from staring at me to understand.

"Oh, yeah, that," He clears his throat and I roll my eyes.

"What? You can't remember a football game just like you can't remember your girlfriend." I smile widely at him, although it doesn't reach my eyes.

"For the tenth time, she wasn't my girlfriend," He speaks between gritted teeth.

"Yeah, and the bronchitis I got from my wet hair is proof of that."

"Oh please," Now he is the one to roll his eyes. "You didn't catch bronchitis, it's summer."

"Are you calling me a liar?" I question.

"No," His lip pulls up at the corner and I fight a smile of my own. "I'm calling you an exaggerator."

I roll my eyes. "Oh so that's what I'm doing? I'm just being dramatic and the whole incident with the water bottle and the threat was just in my imagination."

Paul sighs loudly. "Are you ever going to let it go? I said I was sorry."

"No you didn't, you said you were sorry that she did that to me. You never said _you_ were."

"Yes I did," He mumbles, and I suddenly notice his thighs shaking. "Multiple times actually."

"Whatever," I flip my hair and then take a deep breath. "I don't even care. Although you should probably leave before someone catches me breathing next to you and stabs me in the heart."

"She wasn't my girlfriend!"

Paul's booming voice cuts through the quiet night and everyone stops to turn to look at us. All my joints stiffen; everything stiffens. I ready myself for the blow that I know is about to happen, and after a while of it not happening, I peer over at him hesitantly. He is looking at me with a confused expression on his face, almost like he is examining me.

"Hey, I- sorry alright?"

He reaches his hand out but I stand before he can touch me. "It's fine. Just, never mind."

I cross my arms overtop of my chest and then stand up. I hate the way that I can feel everyone's eyes on me, examining my movements and examining me a little too closely. All I know is that I want to get out of here.

I cross my arms tightly across my chest and head in the direction of the road. I manage to make it to Jacob's truck before I realize that Paul has come after me.

"You are impossible, do you know that?"

I stop dead in my tracks and stare angrily at the ground. "Leave me alone, Paul."

"No, I'm not going to," He states definitively.

With a roll of my eyes, I finally turn towards him. "What is your deal? Was humiliating me in front of half the school not enough for you?"

"I didn't mean to do that! I told you a thousand times before that chick was just some girl I hooked up with a few times."

"How romantic," I speak sarcastically, and then I turn my back to him once again and head for the road. "I'm going home."

"What is wrong with you?" Paul growls, but I just keep walking. I hear him much closer than he should be. "You're insane."

"I am not insane, Paul. I'm just not interested in having a conversation with a guy that has done a rotation through the varsity cheerleaders."

"Who told you that?" He asks, although his voice is wary now.

I scoff. "Everyone."

"Well," He begins slowly, and I notice him fall into step next to me. "At least it was just the varsity?"

I nearly laugh. And then I mentally kick myself for almost laughing, and press my lips together as tightly as I can to be sure that I don't. "That's probably just because you'd be thrown in jail if you slept with the JV."

Paul laughs, and a giggle slips out of my mouth before I slam it shut.

"Oh come on," He nudges my shoulder and my joints automatically stiffen for a second before I quickly recover. "You can laugh."

"Why would I laugh? You're not funny," I lie.

"Oh well you haven't heard my best work yet," He responds cockily.

"Are we talking about jokes or flirting now? Because I can assure you I have witnessed your flirting and it's not as bulletproof as you think."

"Scarlett," Paul sighs and then grabs my arm.

I tense as he pulls me towards him and wince my face away.

"Whoa, I'm not going to hurt you," Paul says quietly.

"I-I know," I stutter and then pull my arm out of his grasp.

"Look, at least let me walk you home. I swear I'm not trying to be a jerk, it just kind of… happens sometimes."

I press my lips together to keep from smiling. "How does being a jerk just kind of happen?"

His lips pull up at the corners and I take an unsteady breath as I stare at him. Paul isn't just good looking, he is _hot_ ; especially when he curves his lips up at the corners like he is doing right now. It comes off slightly cocky but more so utterly desirable. I force my gaze away as soon as I find myself captivated with his too-red lips.

"So are you not mad at me anymore?" He looks like a little boy when he asks, and for a second I almost blurt out that I am not.

"You've got a long way to go before that ever happens buddy." I pat his shoulder and then continue walking.

"Well, can I at least walk you home?" He continues walking in step with me.

"No thank you."

"I was just offering to be polite; there is no way in hell I am going to let you walk all the way home alone in the dark."

I roll my eyes, although his statement makes something twill inside of my stomach; Paul wants to protect me.

Even though I like it, of course I say the exact opposite of what I am feeling; that is something I have grown all too used to doing, it is almost like second nature. "I don't need anyone's protection."

"Oh yeah? And how are you going to fend off attackers, hm? Shoot them dead with your long legs?"

My mouth drops and I stare daggers into him. "Screw you!"

"Kidding," He laughs and then nudges my arm. Somehow I don't wince. "Come on, I'll even let you talk about yourself the entire time."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I exclaim.

"Nothing." He sticks his hands in his front pockets and shoots me a smile that could honest to God send any girl to her knees. "Come on, stop being such a problem. You've already punished me enough by ignoring all my calls and texts."

I bite the corner of my lip in sudden embarrassment. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lie.

"Oh yeah; sure you don't," Paul smiles widely at me.

"Where did you even get my number anyway?" I ask.

"I threatened Embry for it," He answers casually.

I roll my eyes. "Why does that not surprise me?"

He giggles and I can't keep myself from chuckling.

"See," He smiles over at me. "I'm not so bad."

"Yeah, you're only slightly terrible," I giggle.

"So where do you live?" He asks casually, taking a step closer to me. I step away from him on instinct, and he seems to notice and go back to his prior position.

"J-just a mile or so down in Hinckley Village."

Paul's eyes widen at me, and he blinks a few times as he stares before I finally can't take it anymore. "What?"

"You walked all the way here from Hinckley Village?"

"Yes," I hold out the word. It hadn't seemed like that weird of a thought when I had decided to do it.

"Why?" He blurts.

I shrug. "I don't know," I respond quietly, and then quickly divert my gaze. "I like walks."

"On Saturday nights?" Paul asks, quieter now. I don't answer. "Are you not making any friends?" His voice is soft, gentle even, and it surprises me.

I take a long, deep breath, suddenly very embarrassed. "No," I reply defensively, "That's not it."

"Fine, but is that a problem?"

I look over at Paul who is staring at me with something deep beneath his eyes that I have never really seen before. It makes me uncomfortable but then does something to me where I don't want to lie anymore. Even so, it has become such a part of me, that I don't really know how to tell the truth.

"No," I answer quickly.

"Nessie said you don't talk to anyone," He pushes.

"Yeah," I cross my arms and sigh at the ground. "Well, Nessie talks enough for the both of us so that's probably why."

He laughs gently and I bite my lip. "So what's up? Do you not like Forks?"

I shrug. "Forks is fine."

"Than why aren't you making any friends?" Paul asks gently. "Why aren't you even trying?"

"It's not like I'm being mean or anything," I roll my eyes. "I think the whole 'making friends' thing was a little derailed when the most popular girl in school decided to throw ice water on my head and then label me as a social outcast." I narrow my eyes at him and he shoots me a guilty smile.

"What about clubs? Or sports? You listed off about every single one in history and yet you haven't tried out for any."

"Most sports are already in season," I speak quickly.

"That's just an excuse," Paul calls me on my bullshit and I roll my eyes.

"Well maybe I'm worried that I won't make the teams."

"For some reason, I really don't think that would be a problem."

I take a deep breath and then search my mind for some sort of excuse. "Well, I'm really busy with school."

"Is that a fact?" The corner of Paul's lip pulls up and I have to force myself not to stare.

"Yes. I can't let my grades slip because of the emotional trauma of being labeled as a whore who stole some girl's late night Netflix-and-Chill partner."

Paul laughs as he shakes his head at me. "I would just like you to know that as hard as you try, you're never going to distract me enough for me to forget the fact that you aren't answering a single one of my questions."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Yeah, well, at least I'm not yelling at you."

"That is true," Paul laughs and I force myself not to. "So what were you doing on this fine Saturday night before you decided to take a rape walk?"

I giggle. "A rape walk?"

Paul shrugs. "Forks is a lot more dangerous than it seems."

A shiver runs down my spine and I begin rubbing sudden goosebumps that just arose on my arms. "Homework," I answer quietly.

"Homework?" I don't have to be looking at him to be able to tell that he is holding back a laugh. "Are you cold?"

My gaze shoots to him just in time to see him stepping closer to me. I take a quick step back and come face to face with his very confused eyes. "I-I'm fine," I stammer, looking around nervously. I suddenly realize that I am alone with a guy that I barely know.

"Alright," He takes a step back and then holds up his hands in front of him. "Okay. That's fine."

Slowly, I nod my head and then turn the corner, realizing that we have entered my development.

"My aunt's house is right up there," I tell him before I can stop myself, although as soon as it is out my eyes grow wide and my entire body freezes. I stop walking all together and shoot my gaze to his to see if he noticed.

"Your aunt?" He questions, and I cringe. "I thought you said you moved here with your parents."

"I," I begin, my brain racing a thousand miles a minute as I try to come up with some kind of excuse, although I come up blank. "I-I-well," I let my voice trail off and then finally I take one large step and am at my house. "I've got to go," I tell him softly, turning towards my driveway.

"Wait!" Paul calls after me and I freeze with my back still to him. "I- I had a great time with you tonight."

I nod my head and take a step farther away.

"Can I call you?"

My shoulders rise and fall with a nervous breath. I turn finally and then connect my eyes with him. I walk backwards as I answer him. "Sure."

"Sure?" He asks, shock evident in his voice.

"Yeah." My lip pulls up at the corner as my old confidence that for some reason never surrounds me when I am with Paul comes back in full force. "You can call whoever you want; that's not saying I'll answer."

And with that, I unlock my front door and close it behind me. I quickly turn the lights on to be sure that I am alone, and then stumble backwards until my back hits the door. My knees give out and I fall to the floor.

What is wrong with me?

* * *

Yay for an update! Comment if you want me to post the next chapter that I already wrote asap;) Follow, favorite and review please! Hope you liked it!


	4. Yellow

Happy New Year! Enjoy some Paul and Scarlett on your holiday, wahoo!

If you're new to the story, welcome! I hope you are liking it so far! As for my amazing followers and awesome reviewers, thank you so much for reading! Your kind words keep me writing:)

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

About a week has passed since I last talked to Scarlett.

I waved at her a few times when I forced a mandatory practice for the football team just to see her, but she didn't come up to me. I am hoping that it has more to do with people watching and her not wanting to get drenched again, than it does with me, but I really have no idea when it comes to her.

Half the time I think she really likes me and the other I am convinced she hates me and then for about 30% of the time I think that she just really doesn't care. The hope keeping me alive is that Renesmee said she doesn't really talk to anyone, not that people haven't talked to her. Scarlett has that look, the kind that would automatically give her a spot at the popular table, only she doesn't seem to have any interest in that at all. Honestly, the only thing that I know for sure is that her long blonde hair and big blue eyes and tight, tight thighs are giving me whiplash.

After the night I walked her home on Saturday I had been sure that she would at least reply to some of my texts, but she hasn't so much as given me the time of day.

"Oh!" Little Renesmee Cullen pops up in her chair. "Scarlett's calling."

"There ya go Paul," Embry smacks my back and I slap his hand off of me.

"Answer it." I try to keep my excitement at bay; damn I am such a chump.

Renesmee giggles at me and puts the phone on speaker.

"Hey Scarlett!" She answers in that annoyingly happy voice of hers.

"Hey Nessie," Scarlett responds, her voice deeper and raspy and sexy and sexy and sexy. "What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm actually going to dinner with Jake in Port Angeles. Want to come?"

Jacob gently shoves her shoulder and then grimaces. She narrows her eyes at him.

"Oh, no that's okay," Scarlett answers, and I immediately want to take that disappointment right out of her voice and make sure that she is never, ever, never disappointed again. "I was actually calling to see if you wanted to come over and watch movies with me while eating 75 pounds of candy snuggled up beneath blankets, but have fun at your little dinner."

Nessie giggles. "I'm sorry! Rain check?"

"Yeah," She sighs through the phone. "I'll just have to watch the Notebook without someone to cry with. No big deal really."

"Now you're making me feel guilty!" Nessie jokes.

"Oh I'm kidding, relax." Scarlett giggles and I breathe in the sound. "Have fun on your date and tell Jacob I say hello."

"I will. Have a good night."

"I intend to," She sings across the line, and then I hear the dial tone.

I slink down in my seat and don't even try to hide the annoyance from everyone around Sam's kitchen table. Of course I imprint on the only girl that doesn't find me the least bit appealing.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out begrudgingly. Scarlett's name flashes across my screen and I immediately perk up.

"Hello?" I answer, trying to hide my obvious shock at her calling me after a week of ignoring all my attempts at contact.

"What are you doing tonight?" She asks with less enthusiasm as she had on the phone with Renesmee. Just then, Nessie reaches across the table and practically snatches the phone out of my hand. I slap her hand and narrow my eyes at her.

"Put it on speaker!" She whispers.

"Ugh, yeah, that sounds good." I cover the receiver. "No! Get away!"

"What?" Scarlett asks, clearly confused.

"I- I mean nothing. I'm doing nothing."

"Speaker!" She demands, louder this time.

I grit my teeth but then pull the phone away from my ear and set it on the table, hitting the speaker button and having to squeeze my hands into fists to keep from attacking little vampire girl.

"So," Scarlett begins slowly, "You're doing nothing tonight or doing a girl named nothing tonight?"

Jacob slaps his hand to his mouth to keep from bursting into laughter.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Very funny," I tell her.

She giggles and immediately my spirit lifts. I could honestly just listen to her laugh for hours and be perfectly content. "You want to come over tonight?" Her voice grows quieter, shy even, and it makes me want to run over there and grab her and kiss her until she passes out. "Maybe watch a movie or something?"

"Yeah I'd love that," I reply, trying to make my voice sound as genuine as I feel.

"Well, I just- I mean j-just a movie though," Her voice trails off and it takes me a second to realize what she is so worried about.

"Oh, Scarlett no I," I struggle with my words for a moment. "Don't worry, okay?"

I hear her breathe a sigh of relief and then smile to myself. "Alright," She says, "I trust you remember how to find the place?"

"Is that your aunt's house or your parent's?"

I can practically imagine her rolling her eyes, although an answer never comes, not that I have really come to expect one. The dial tone comes through the line and I stand up, ready to sprint there.

Tonight just may wind up being the best one yet.

I show up at Scarlett's house after forcing myself to stand outside and wait five more minutes as to not look like a complete idiot.

She opens the door with a sly smile and dear God her legs. My eyes trail up them, I can't help myself. They are shining and tan and smooth and I have to hold myself back from reaching out and touching them. I finally pull my gaze up to her face and then realize that this is not any better for my self-control as her damn legs were. Her lips are plush, oh so fucking plush and perfectly pink, too. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are shining brightly, blue like some kind of an ocean that I am about to get lost in. Her hair is loose and natural and strewn overtop of her shoulders like a Victoria's Secret model. She is wearing small black shorts and a tank top with a cardigan overtop of her shoulders. I wonder if this girl is trying to kill me.

"H-Hey," I clear my throat. "Hi."

Scarlett's lips pull up into a grin and I can't stop staring at her perfect teeth. "Hi," She says. How on earth is her voice that naturally sexy? "You want to come in or are you going to stand outside gawking at me the entire night?" Her words are teasing but I definitely don't take it that way.

"Yes, I am."

I watch as she gulps and then her lips part and I just need to kiss her. I reach forward and she jumps back, her shoulders stiffening and her eyes growing wide. I pull back immediately and watch her.

Scarlett is scared of me.

"C-Come on in," She stammers. She shakes her head and then a fake smile fills her perfect face; I don't like it nearly as much as the real one.

I step inside and then immediately look around at the simple, modern design and cold atmosphere; there is absolutely no indication that she even lives here. "I like your house," I lie just to be polite.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "This house is like something straight out of a horror movie."

I chuckle. "Now that you mention it, this does all look rather familiar."

She bites the corner of her lip to keep from laughing and I want to reach out and stoke that damn lip of hers and tell her to never, ever hold back a laugh because it is the most amazing thing I have ever seen and heard.

"Do you want some pizza?" She asks.

I nod my head. "Sure."

Scarlett leads me into the kitchen that has about one appliance and then opens a box for me. I place five pieces on my plate without even thinking.

Scarlett raises her eyebrows at me as she takes a sip of her water. "Are you going to war?"

I chuckle and shake my head. "No I'm just hungry." Explaining my extremely heavy appetite would be a little difficult without also explaining how I change into a wolf in my spare time. "What movie do you want to watch?"

"Scarlett runs her fingers through her hair and I take a bite of my pizza so that I don't take a bite out of her. "Well I don't know; what kind of movies do you like watching?"

"No," I place my plate on the table and then grasp the island countertop to hold me up. "That's not how this is going to work."

"It's not?" She raises her eyebrow at me.

"No way," I smile. "I want to watch what _you_ want to watch."

Scarlett's lips pull up into a real smile, and I am suddenly mesmerized, but then all too quickly she wipes it away and stands up just a little bit straighter. "Are you sure? Because if you are I am definitely going to have some fun with this freedom."

I stare at the way her lip pulls up devilishly and nod my head. "Yes I am very sure."

* * *

"Okay so just bare with me here," I take another bite of cold pizza as Scarlett opens up a second bag of sour gummy worms. "I know that Cal is supposed to be the villain and all, but I mean, is he _really_ that bad of a guy?"

"Paul, did you not just see him fling a table across the room?" She throws her hand out towards the TV and then begins sucking on the end of a gummy-worm. Oh dear God. I force my eyes away and hope she doesn't notice the way that I flex my muscles to make sure nothing else flexes.

"Y-yeah I know," I begin again. "But, okay, just listen to this. So, focusing on this Rose chick; she is this girl who is obviously loved by a really rich man who gives her presents and calls her 'sweet pea' and is obviously trying to get her to love him back, and what does she do? Sass him all the time and then run off with a kid from the lower class."

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "You're missing the point. Rose feels trapped. Cal doesn't care about her he just wants to say that he won."

"Whatever you say," I sigh and steal a gummy worm out of her hand.

"Hey!" She swats at my hand and I giggle as I take a bite.

I wince as I chew it. "I seriously don't know how you eat these things."

"That's my favorite candy," She sighs and rests her head against the back of the couch, turning her attention back to the movie. We are about an hour deep into Titanic, and every free chance I get to stare at her I take.

We are both on the couch, although every time I try to position myself closer to her she stiffens or leans away from me, so after a while I just gave up trying and realized that I was just going to have to settle for opposite ends of the couch. She is confusing me beyond belief.

Considering she invited me over tonight, it is safe to conclude that she actually does like me, although now I have some entirely new questions that need answering. How come one minute she is confident and endearing and cocky, yet every time I move a muscle she jumps back like I am going to take a swing at her?

"See," She points towards the TV and pulls my attention away from her face, "Jack listens to her."

"I'll take that into consideration," I shoot her a cocky smile and she rolls her eyes.

"I have never met a guy who over-analyzes Titanic quite like you, Paul Lahote."

I had no idea she knew my last name.

I raise my eyebrows at her. "How many guys have you watched Titanic with?" I mean this as a joke, but then once I say it I realize that the thought alone makes me want to hit something. Even imagining Scarlett with some other guy that obviously didn't deserve her and didn't treat her right brings out a rage in me that I have never felt before; just imagining her with a guy that treated her right is bad enough.

"No one," She narrows her eyes and relief washes over me. "I didn't have a lot of free time before, remember?"

"Oh, right," I nod my head; she walked right into this: "So have you given any more thought to playing a sport?"

She moans loudly and I put the sound into memory; I can only imagine what her moan would sound like if-

"Why do you want me to play a sport so bad? Hm? Does the football team need a new punter or something?"

"Now that you think about it I'm actually in search of a new tailback."

She giggles and I stare at the way that her thick lips curve up into a smile.

"I don't know," She sighs. I don't really think I'm welcome on the cheerleading squad, so."

"See, I did you a favor." She narrows her eyes at me. "You don't want to play the girliest 'sport' in history."

She rolls her eyes. "But if I joined a sport than I wouldn't have as much time to watch the Titanic with you."

"I take it back," I take another bite of pizza. "No sports for you."

Scarlett giggles and then yawns. She pulls a pillow out from behind her and then places it right next to my thighs. She scoots herself down so that her toes are touching the opposite end and then rests her cheek against the pillow. I stare down at the perfect, blonde hair that is now nearly touching my lap. I gulp and find myself unable to look away.

"Paul?" She sighs.

"Yes?" I manage to answer, trying my best to make my voice soft, for I have found that she is most receptive when I do that.

"Do you find it weird that I take walks alone and watch movies on a Saturday night?"

"Hm?" Now this question throws me for a loop.

"Well, I mean, I guess what I'm asking is, why do you want to hangout with me?"

Now I am really confused. "Scarlett," I reach my hand out to touch her shoulder but she lurches away from me, and I realize that I must have scared her. "I'm sorry," I begin immediately; the last thing I want to do is make her afraid of me.

"I-it's okay," Her voice quivers as she sits up straight, although this time she is much closer.

"I don't think you're weird," I tell her honestly.

She looks up at me from beneath those thick, black lashes and I swear I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life. "But, why? I mean, you can have any girl that you want and instead you're spend your Friday night watching Titanic with a girl that has no intention of giving you anything like what you're used to getting."

Her words ripple in my head and I immediately grow agitated, although I push it down. "It's different with you," I get out between gritted teeth, staring down at my lap as I struggle to explain to her something that I don't even understand.

"Is that why you want me to join all these clubs? And make a lot of friends? Because then you wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with me?"

I snap my head up at her. Is she crazy? "What? Scarlett, no. That doesn't even make any sense."

"I'm just wondering," She mumbles, and then I notice her biting the inside of her cheek and I put something together: every time that she gets nervous she does this. I fight the urge to reach out and stroke her cheek, and then I realize that I just don't have the willpower to hold myself back anymore.

I raise my hand slowly, and am not even surprised when she flinches. I hold my hand steady in the air and then wait for her to look at me. Scarlett's big, blue eyes are scrunched together and deep with a meaning that I haven't figured out yet. "Relax," I whisper, and after a moment, when she continues to stare at me and doesn't flinch away, I slowly continue moving my hand until I finally press it to her cheek.

She is staring at me with wide eyes and maybe a little bit of panic, but even though I want nothing more than to kiss her, I have no intention of doing anything but comforting her. Her skin is so soft I wonder if it is secretly velvet and when I stroke my thumb across it slowly I feel a blush form before I even see it.

"Scarlett," I tell her softly. "I could never be embarrassed to be seen with you. I think you're perfect."

Her lips tremble for a moment before she answers. "B-B-But you don't even know me."

I nod my head slowly, and watch my finger as I stroke my thumb across her cheek. "I want to."

"Why?" She pushes, and I suddenly see the slight desperation that is hiding behind her eyes.

"What do you mean why?" I fight a smile.

"I mean why do you text me all the time? Why do you walk me home after I insult you? Why do you come running over here on your Friday night because I call you? I don't get it."

Well, I can't just blurt out that I imprinted on her, so I guess I will have to go with the next best thing. "You're not like the other girls, Scarlett."

"What does that mean?" She looks at me like I just told her I am some type of animal, no pun intended.

I can't help but smile. "Do I really have to explain it?"

She looks down towards her lap and I watch the way that her long eyelashes follow down with her. She is vulnerable right now in a way that she never has been with me before, and as I watch her mind beginning to work I worry that I may miss my chance.

"Scarlett?" I question softly, not wanting to scare her out of an answer. This girl sure is jumpy. Her eyes peer up at mine and I just want to kiss her. "Do you live with your aunt? Is that it?"

Her eyes widen for one split second before they go back to normal and then she stares at me with her lips slightly parted and a blank expression on her face. I don't even think she blinks.

"Scarlett?" I ask again after a moment, my palm still pressed firmly against her cheek.

"Y-you're hands really warm," She stutters.

I smile and stroke her skin. "You're not answering my question."

She opens her mouth but then shuts it again. "I- well- I- This is my house; my parents are just away on business and sometimes my aunt comes to check on me. The only reason I said it was her house is because it gets confusing because she's here more than them." She shrugs her shoulders and then clears her throat, and then she pulls her face away from my hand.

I try not to show my disappointment on my face as I pull my hand back into my lap. Scarlett lies a lot. I wonder how she gets away with it so often, because she is so terrible at it, the lie is evident all over her face as she speaks it. I would think to not notice, once would have to not be paying that much attention- but I notice everything about her. I notice the way that she stutters when she's nervous and jumps every time I try to touch her or diverts her gaze when she isn't telling the truth.

And right now, she just lied to me.

I nod my head even though everything inside of me is screaming to get it out of her. She bites the inside of her cheek and I sigh at her. I don't want her to feel nervous around me, even if that means allowing her to lie.

"Come on," I pat the pillow next to my lap and readjust myself into a comfortable position. "Lay back down. Let's watch Rose let the love of her life drown."

It takes her a second, but then finally I see those huge, perfect, blue eyes roll as she lays her head back down and stretches out. "I thought you said you've never seen it before," She teases.

I scoff. "It's not like I live under a rock. Never let go, Jack, never let go!" I repeat the common line with a high, girlish voice and I watch as her shoulders shake as she laughs.

"That's not even how the line goes," She speaks between giggles. When she speaks her voice is low and sexy and when she laughs she sounds like a two year old- God this girl is incredible.

I smile down at her and then can't help myself from placing my hand on her arm.

Scarlett stiffens but I don't pull away. "Is this okay?" I ask quietly.

It takes her a moment to answer, and when she does, her voice is shaky. "Y-yeah," She stammers, her voice merely a whisper. "That's okay."

I want to ask her why she hates me touching her so much, when suddenly I realize the answer. She must be terrified of my history, afraid that being alone with me entails a lot more than just watching a movie. I want to punch myself in the face for making her feel like this.

"She's about to strip," I feel her shoulder fall as she sighs. "Should I excuse myself to the bathroom to make this less awkward?"

I can't help but laugh. "Only if you want to."

She doesn't.

And I think that says more than words.

At around the boat-sinking part Scarlett falls asleep. At first I thought she was just really into the movie, but then when Rose somehow managed to cut off Jack's handcuffs without killing the guy I made a snide comment about how unrealistic that scene was and when she didn't move a muscle or answer in the slightest I peered down and noticed her fast asleep.

Her eyes are closed, her eyelashes fluttering every so often as her mouth is just barely parted and her chest moves in an even rhythm. I know it is wrong, but I can't help but move my hand down as I stare at her. I stroke my finger along her hairline, but then I pull back quickly, sure that she is going to wake up and freak out. When she doesn't move a muscle, I press my finger to her hair again. I trace overtop of her soft, blonde hair and then run the hair behind her ear again and again and again.

I thought Scarlett was beautiful before, but there is nothing in the world like watching her sleep.

The ending scene happens and I smile to myself when Rose says the words that I so terribly mimicked and realize that Scarlett was right; I had gotten the line wrong. The credits begin rolling and I contemplate rewinding the movie just so I could stare at her a little while longer; I mean, she would never know.

She mumbles something incoherent and I swear I almost hug her in her sleep; that was fucking adorable. Finally, when the credits end and I notice the time on the dash, I realize that I should probably get her to bed and then get on my way. As much as I don't want to leave, the last thing I want to do is be some creep and have her wake up at 6 am to me watching her sleep. Only, should I leave her here?

I look at her, so peaceful and content on the couch, and wonder if I should just let her be, but then I realize that she would probably be even more comfortable in her own bed, so I decide that I should take her up. I stand, careful for the pressure not to jostle her awake, and then attempt to position my hands a total of about five times before I finally just slide my hands around her back and lift her into my arms.

Scarlett mumbles something again, and for a second I worry that I woke her, but she merely rolls in my arms so that her face is pressed into my chest and then sighs contently as her body slumps. I stare down at her; you know what, I take it back, I am just going to stand here holding her until morning.

No- Paul! Pull it together; that's creepy!

Without looking away from her sleeping face, I begin walking up the stairs.

The feeling of Scarlett pressed up against me is indescribable. I have slept with many women, which means that I have felt many women pressed up against me quite like this, but I can honestly say that it is nothing like Scarlett. Her body is warm and soft and small and fragile and she seems to fit perfectly to me. I never want to let her go.

Even though I have no idea which one is her bedroom, I open two doors before the third one seems to be a room that appears lived in. I notice a few books strewn across the room and some homework and an unmade bed, and smile to myself as I look around at _her_ room.

The covers are already pulled out, and I take a moment just staring at the sheets and thinking, _this is where she sleeps._ I place her on the white sheets and then watch in amazement as she stretches her arms above her head and cranes her neck to the side. I stare at it, wondering what it would feel like to suck on it. She twists around so that she is lying on her stomach, when her sweater falls off her shoulder. I go to push it back into place, when something catches my eye.

There is something green peaking out from underneath her tank top.

I stare at it for a moment, and even lean closer to be able to get a better view, but the only thing that I can make out is the faint outline of something light green covering her skin at the hem of her shirt. I reach out, slowly and oh, so careful not to wake her up, and then gently pull down on her tank top.

My eyes connect with a small, circular bruise. My breath catches in my throat and I pull it down even farther to be sure that I see it all. I notice another one, light yellow, much smaller and very faint, a little lower on her back. With a newfound panic, I lift the bottom of her shirt up and then nearly shift right then and there. There is a _huge_ bruise in bright yellow overtaking nearly all of her lower back.

What the hell are these?

* * *

Ahhh! Review for an update! (Ps: I am moving into school this week so the update may be a tad delayed, but I will update asap!)

Follow and favorite if you haven't already:) Thanks for reading!

PS: In the meantime, if you get impatient waiting for an update on this story, check out my other Imprint story entitled, Fighting Fate, about Jacob and Renesmee!


	5. A New Nickname

Hi guys! Sorry about the late update; I am moving out of state tomorrow so I have been super busy! Enjoy this chapter. It switches from Paul's POV to Scarlett's, I hope you like it!  
Also, wow! I went from 11 to 25 followers with one update! And on one day I got 10 followers, high five everyone! You're just the best!

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I charge outside and just make it to the woods behind Scarlett's house before I shift. I can't control it.

My entire body is shaking and my heart is beating a thousand times a minute and I want to kill someone; I legitimately want to kill someone. The images of Scarlett's bruised back flashes across my mind over and over and over again; I can't stop thinking about it. How did she get them? _Who_ gave them to her? Is someone hurting her?

I know that this isn't smart, but I could care less. Now in wolf form, I leap across the main road and just divert a car as I go running into the main woods that I know will lead me to my pack. I hadn't realized I needed them until I am suddenly howling out for them.

I nearly run straight into Embry. "Paul, what's wrong?" He asks, his voice frantic in my mind.

I am whining and smashing my head against the ground and willing, willing, willing, hating the images out of my mind. I can't focus.

"Shit," I hear Embry think, and then I notice Jared and Sam, who must all be on patrol, come up.

"What's happened?" Sam asks, the alpha in him commanding my thoughts back to that terrible image.

"Shit," Jared has the exact same response as Embry, and it only makes everything worse.

"What happened to her?" Embry asks.

"I don't know!" I scream in my head.

"Is someone… hurting her?"

I growl and lunge at him; he only makes it out of the way at the last minute. The thought alone brings out a rage in me that I have never felt before. My Scarlett, my sweet, shy yet completely hard to get little Scarlett is getting hurt; how the hell could anyone hurt her?

"He's dying." I repeat over and over in my head, "He, it, she, they, whatever the hell it is, it's dying."

"Paul," Sam shouts authoritatively and I whine as I lower my head to the ground. "You can't be sure that that's what's going on. You need to ask her before we take action."

"We have to protect her," Jared says definitively.

" _If_ there is something to protect her from."

I growl at Sam and dig my back feet into the soil.

"Paul," Sam begins, "I understand that the imprint bond is overwhelming you, but you need to calm down _now_. Ask her what the problem is, and then if there is something we need to handle we will all do it. Scarlett is apart of our family now, and we will protect her.

I nod my head and force myself into a standing. Maybe Sam is right; maybe this is all a misunderstanding. But the truth is, that something inside of me is telling me that my intuition is right.

And whoever or whatever the hell is doing this, is going to die.

* * *

The next morning

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Okay, give me the answer to number five and I'll listen to you talk about Jacob for thirty seconds."

Renesmee rolls her eyes but scans her eyes over the AP Statistics problem anyways, immediately coming to an answer that is definitely right and would take any normal human being at least two hours to come anywhere close to figuring out; I swear this girl is so smart it's like she isn't even human.

"You're so annoying," I moan as I write the answer down. "Now can you explain how you got to this answer? Also, how the hell did you get 10.3345 without a calculator?"

She giggles. "Natural intuition."

"It is so not fair how smart you are," I huff and look at the next problem that looks like a completely different language.

"Oh please," She flips her golden hair and I get a waft of roses. " _You_ are actually the smarter one. You study like a crazy person and actually work for your grades. I just got good genes."

"Your logic is incredibly flawed but I am going to take the complement so that I don't lose all my self-confidence while doing homework with you," I smile sarcastically.

She giggles. "Well, I guess something has to be flawed when it comes to me. Couldn't just be completely perfect."

Now I am the one to burst into laughter. "You are incredible."

The funny thing about Renesmee Cullen, is that she is exactly the opposite type of girl that I usually become friends with. She is a little weird and very hyper and annoyingly positive, yet somehow I find myself so attracted to her. While she is just a little too happy sometimes she is kind, and she is genuine, which is something that my friends in Massachusetts weren't.

My old friends were popular and fun, but they weren't necessarily the most dependable people. I never had a _best_ friend, never had someone who I would only hangout with alone. I had a lot of friends, all different yet all the same, for though they knew me, they never really knew me well enough to actually know what was going on. This whole single friends thing is entirely new to me.

"So are you going to tell me about your movie night with Paul or what?"

I narrow my eyes at her until she rolls her eyes away. "I don't understand why you won't at least give me _some_ details."

"Because unlike you I don't need the world to know about how my boyfriend won't have sex with me even though I beg him every five seconds."

She slaps my arm and I giggle; I have never been afraid of girl's hitting me.

"You're such a brat," She moans and I giggle; Renesmee has this thing about swearing, it is honestly hysterical. "Wait, hang on a second, are you saying that Paul is your boyfriend? And you had sex with him?" Her eyes are as wide as saucers and she is hanging on my every word.

I shake my head at her ridiculousness. "That was just a figure of speech." I bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from blushing.

"Well what _did_ you guys do?" She pushes for gossip.

"Oo!" I jump up and fake excitement, looking around the room to be sure no one is around. "Okay, I wasn't going to tell anyone this, and you have to _promise_ to keep it a secret."

"I promise," She answers immediately, her tone suddenly serious.

"Okay," I lean closer to her and she leans in as well. "We… watched a movie." I shrug my shoulders and open my mouth in mock excitement and Renesmee looks like she is going to kill me.

"I hate you so much."

I giggle. "You love me."

"Renesmee?" I hear a male voice call through the house and immediately freeze overtop of my homework. I sit up straight and start packing up my things.

"Hey," She nudges my shoulder. "Chill. It's just my dad."

I gulp.

"Hey dad! In here!"

A younger looking man with the same golden blonde/brown hair as Renesmee walks in the room, liking entirely attractive and _entirely_ the same age as his daughter.

"Hey Nessie," He smiles and I look at him like he is some kind of animal I have never seen before. "And you must be Scarlett. It's nice to meet you! Renesmee talks about you all the time." He holds out his smooth looking hand and I stare at it in partly a state of shock and partly a state of judgment; I know how nice _he_ used to be when my friends were over, it was once they left that the real problems started.

I clear my throat and place my hand in his. His skin is surprisingly cold, but warm in a way that I cannot describe. "H-hopefully good things," I try to sound confident and offer as much of a smile as I can muster up.

Mr. Cullen's eyebrows furrow as he looks at me for just a moment, although in an instant it is gone. "Of course! She says you're one of the only girls she has ever met that is as smart as her."

I can't help but laugh. "And she is the most humble person I have ever met."

Nessie kicks my foot and I roll my eyes.

"What are you two up to today?" He asks casually, walking around to the side of the room to where the huge, huge windows are and looking out. "I know your mother wants to meet Scarlett."

"Well, I think we're just finishing this up and then we're going to stop by the shop."

"We are?" I ask her, knowing from how much she talks about anything and everything Jacob that "the shop" is his auto repair shop that he owns.

"Yes," She smiles widely and I examine her out of the corner of my eye. This very much seems like a set-up.

"Renesmee," Mr. Cullen reprimands slowly. "Are you trying to set Scarlett up?"

I chuckle through my closed lips.

"No," She flips her hair. "Who knows if he will even be there? I just have something I need to give to Jake."

"A kiss?" I mock.

"No kissing," Mr. Cullen narrows his eyes at her and she rolls hers. I gulp and press my hair behind my ear; I don't know whether I should smile, laugh or look away. I don't know what kind of trouble she is really in.

I catch Mr. Cullen staring at me again with that same look of confusion on his face. It makes me uncomfortable. "So Scarlett," He begins, placing his hands into his pockets and then taking a step closer. "You're free to say over for dinner if you would like, unless you plan on having dinner with your family."

A flash of what dinner was like at my house floods my brain before I gulp it away. Mr. Cullen stares, unwavering, as I clear my throat. "No, my parents are out of town. But that's okay, I should get home anyways." I nod my head as to convince even myself that I have plans later when I think everyone knows that I don't.

His eyebrow furrows and his eyes hold something deeper behind them as his lips pull up into a small smile. Damn, Renesmee's dad is hot. He smiles to himself over something and then turns to Nessie.

"Don't be out too late tonight," He tells her.

"Okay, like midnight?"

"Renesmee," He holds out her name and I smile at the way that she bites the corner of her lip and twiddles with her pencil. "I said _like_ midnight."

"More like ten," He pats her head and then gently pulls her hair behind her shoulder. I stare at the movement, so gentle and paternal, but more than that, I stare at the way that Renesmee responds. She doesn't pull away or look like she is trying to hide a wince or an uncomfortable feeling of tenseness. She doesn't react at all; I wonder what it would be like not to react at all like that.

Mr. Cullen shifts his eyes to meet mine for just a second before I quickly look away.

"Okay," Nessie smiles and shuts her schoolbook. "So _like_ ten."

He raises his eyebrows at her and she smiles guiltily. "Ten thirty?"

"Fine," He takes a step back. "But if your mother asks you threatened me."

I giggle; the thought alone that Renesmee's _mom_ would be the one to be upset is hysterical to me.

"It was really nice meeting you Scarlett," He turns to me with a hesitant smile. "You're welcome over here whenever you would like; Nessie told you that, right?"

I gulp. "Y-yeah. T-thanks."

"Yeah," Renesmee grabs my hand and then I practically fall on my face as she pulls me into a standing and I struggle to shove all my books into my backpack. "Thanks dad. We're going to Jake's shop now; bye!"

She practically drags me out of my room and I just manage to make it out without tripping.

It takes about a half-hour of blasting Kanye to Taylor Swift to a few emotional songs of Phantom of the Opera before I shut that down. When we reach Jacob's auto repair shop, I look around slowly, and can suddenly really see Jacob working here. From the way that Renesmee described it though, I had thought that it was just some casual hobby, not the empire that is stretching out in front of me. I don't think I've ever seen a sign that big in my life.

"Babe!" Jacob says happily as Rensemee giddily jumps into his arms. I roll my eyes as they begin to kiss rather sloppily.

"Hey Scarlett," He says with a smile once they manage to untangle themselves from each other. I wave awkwardly.

"H-hey. Is Paul around?"

Rensmee's eyes shoot up in response. "Oh, you're looking for Paul now?"

"I'm not _looking_ for anyone," I mumble, although the truth is that the prospect of seeing Paul again makes me more excited than I care to admit.

Jacob shushes Renesmee and then wraps his arms around her back as he kisses her neck. Sometimes I feel extremely uncomfortable while watching these two. "Head towards the back and then second door on the right! He's working on a motorcycle that was totaled the other day."

"Perfect." I slip past them and then quickly find the room that Jacob was talking about, although that door is more like a garage door than a wood one. I pull up the bottom of the garage door and then lower it back down behind me.

"Jake if I hear one more word about that little vamp girl I am going to punch you in the face."

I stiffen at the threat but then peer over at his back nervously. "What's a vamp girl?"  
Paul turns quickly on his heel. "Scarlett," He mutters, surprise clear in his tone. "What are you doing here?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Should I go?"

"No!" He answers immediately, and I jump back in surprise. "Oh, sorry," He mumbles, watching my movements closely.

"Ugh, N-Nessie had to give Jake something, but I think that something has less to be with an object and more to do with the birds and the bees. So what's a vamp girl?"

Paul's eyes widen and he taps a wrench against the side of his hand. "Ugh, that." He tosses it onto the ground and I jump back at the sudden clang. Paul blinks, his eyes fixed on me as I take a steadying breath. "It's just the nickname for some girl that comes in here all the time; has the hots for Jake, super annoying."

"Oh," I nod my head and then shuffle on my feet uncomfortably. "I don't mean to bother you," I smile just a little bit, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Honestly I just wanted to say thank you for the other night."

Paul seems a little confused. "Last night, you mean?"

My lip pulls up at the corner. "That is the night." I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and smile at him nervously.

"What about it?" He smiles that particular Paul smile that is a little bit crooked and a lot bit perfect and I try not to stare.

"W-well I just- uhm, I wanted to say thank you."

"You already said that," He laughs gently and I bite the corner of my lip. I am completely embarrassing myself.

"For the bed thing." My eyes widen and his do the same. "I mean- not the _bed_ thing, but for taking me to bed- Oh God." My mouth drops at myself; what the hell is wrong with me. I look over at Paul who is struggling so obviously hard not to laugh. "I am making an idiot out of myself," I finally laugh and then bite my lip and shake my head. I press my hand to my head and then shake it with a sigh.

"No you're not," Paul laughs and walks closer to me. "You mean for _putting_ you to bed."

I smile awkwardly. "Yes, that sounds much better."

"Awe," Paul smiles and then reaches his hand up. I wince. Shit. Why did I do that? His eyes watch mine with an unwavering gaze and I stare at him, a little confused. Why is everyone looking at me like they can read my mind today?

Paul holds his hand up in the air for a few seconds, much like he had when he touched my face last night, something that I still remember the feeling of. Finally, he presses his soft hands that are still as hot as I remember to my cheek, and I try to act like I don't have a reaction to his touch, although the truth is that when Paul touches me, it is unlike anything I have ever felt before. It calms me in a way that I can't explain, which is exactly what it does when he touches me now.

"You're welcome," He speaks gently, and then he does that thing where he strokes his thumb across my cheek and I nearly melt right then and there. Paul strokes a piece of hair behind my ear and I hold my eyes closed for a little while longer than usual.

I bite the corner of my lip and peer down at the floor. He removes his hand and I mentally kick myself.

"Hey, ugh," That easy, gentle Paul is gone and now a nervous one is in his place. "I actually wanted to talk to you about last night."

"You did?" I ask slowly.

"Yeah," He holds out the word. "Look I, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but when I was putting you in bed, I- I saw something."

My eyes widen and I take a sudden step back. "What do you mean you saw something?"

"Nothing bad," He holds out his hand and I jump back. Paul looks sad for a moment as he pulls his hands back to his sides. "I mean, nothing personal. I just, well, when I was laying you down your sweater fell, and I saw, well I saw bruises, Scarlett."

My breath catches in my throat. Everything catches in my throat. Everything stops. I can't hear my heartbeat in my ears- I can't hear my heartbeat anywhere; I don't even think it's working anymore.

"Scarlett?"

I look up at him, my entire body tense. I know what I need to do, but for some reason with Paul my brain and my mouth and my lips and my tongue all stop working at the same time and I can't do what I have been doing for years.

"You can tell me," He begins, softly. I stare at a grease stain on his shirt as I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood.

"So do you work here full-time?" I ask, my voice higher than I wish it was.

Paul scrunches his eyebrows together. "Don't do that, Scar."

I blink a few times. Scar? I practically fall on the ground screaming his name at the nickname. Nickname? Did Paul just give me a nickname? Paul has a nickname for me! I am swooning.

I walk towards the bike that Paul is standing right in front of and then go behind it so that it is between us. Paul watches me closely, and I watch the bike closely. I run my fingers along the leather seat and bite my lip. "Have you ever been?"

"What?" He asks after a moment.

"On a bike before?"

It takes Paul quite a while to answer, although I really don't mind staring at him for a while longer as he figures out what to say.

"Yes," He finally sighs, and then his lip pulls up at the corner. "Yes I have been on a bike before, Scarlett. Have you?"

"Oh, no," I shrug my shoulders sadly.

"Of course you haven't," He sighs again. Paul crosses his arms and then stares at me.

"I could always take you on a ride."

I fight a smile. "I don't know if I trust you enough yet to get on one of the most dangerous vehicles in the world with you, yet."

"Yet?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I mumble.

"Scarlett." Paul's more serious voice pulls me from the bike and I connect my eyes with two dark brown ones. "Tell me about the bruises."

"I," I stumble with my thoughts for a moment. "I have a lot of homework."

"That's great," Paul smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes. "The bruises."

"What?" I am merely trying to bide time.

"Bruises," He repeats.

"I-I," stammer as I begin twiddling with my fingers. For a second I actually contemplate sprinting out of the room.

"Is someone hurting you?" He asks softly, and my eyes bulge on instinct.

"No, of course not!" I scoff, and I am so great at this particular lie that I nearly convince myself. Paul visibly relaxes and I can finally breathe again. Am I in the clear?

"Than what is it?" He asks, although his voice is less gentle this time.

"I-I ride horses." Not a lie.

"You do?" Paul seems taken aback.

"Mhm," I nod my head. "All the time actually." Not necessarily a lie. "Before I left I went to the stables and they just got a new horse and even though the owner told me not to go near it I went anyway." Not necessarily a lie either; I actually did have an encounter with a wild horse a while ago, although it just left me slightly freaked out with a small bruise on my thigh.

"So it attacked you?" Paul appears shocked.

"Not necessarily," I bite my lip. Not a lie. "It just freaked out a little bit. That's where the bruises came from." Lie.

"Why didn't you just tell me that?" Paul asks.

I bite my lip. "How did you get into fixing cars?"

"Ugh, it's just kind of something that all of us do. It's an easy job, good money, flexible hours."

"Who is all of us?"

"All my friends and I," He clarifies.

"Oh."

"Scarlett?"

I turn towards him. Dear God could he just let this go already?

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Now this I was not expecting.

I gulp so loud that he raises his eyebrows at me. "W-what?" I stammer, my voice squeaky.

"A date," Paul smiles. "Would you like to go on one?"

"Ugh, no." Paul's face drops and then I feel slightly bad so I add a, "Sorry."

"But why?" He asks.

I clear my throat. "You know I really need to go, so."

"Scarlett," Paul moans.

"What?" I shake my head and cross my arms overtop of my chest.

"You don't have to be so tough all the time. I see past it."

Ice spreads through my veins like wildfire; I can't be around someone that sees through me; I just can't. I can't because then the truth is much more easily attained, then I am not safe anymore. I am confused though, because Paul is most definitely not safe for my secret, yet when he touches me I feel more protected than I have ever felt.

"I'm leaving." I turn on my heels and head towards the garage door.

"So is that a no like it was a no before you called me last night?"

I stop with my back to him and since he isn't able to see me, I smile and bite the center of my lip. "I guess you'll see."

"Your attempts to keep me away aren't going to work, Scarlett."

Something pings inside my chest when he says that to me; no one has ever _tried_ as hard as Paul tries when it comes to getting to know me. I hate it as much as I am entirely captivated with it.

"Bye Paul," I roll my eyes and step outside.

"See you later, Scar."

Paul's nickname for me is officially my favorite thing ever. It actually gives me butterflies; what the hell is going on? I am not this type of girl!

Holy hell, I am actually surprised my legs work as I walk away.

* * *

That's a wrap for chapter 5! I hope you enjoyed! I have big plans for chapter 6 so I will update asap!  
I hope you liked this! Follow and favorite the story if you want to get an update when I post:) Review for an update! xoxo


	6. Coffee

Hi everyone! Sorry about the late update; things have been crazy moving into school and getting settled! Welcome to all my new followers and favoriters and reviwers:) 33 follows, high five! Let's keep it going!  
Super excited about this chapter and I hope you like it!

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I feel like such an idiot, but the thing is that I could honestly care less.

I stand outside The Reservation High school with flowers in my hand and a stone-hard grip at the fact that I haven't seen Scarlett since Sunday and it is now Tuesday and I _need_ to see those eyes and that perfect, heart-shaped face, and long, shining blonde hair and GOD I need this girl so bad right now I am actually holding myself back from sprinting into that damn school, throwing her over my shoulder and going full kidnap mode.

Out of the corner of my eye I peer over to my left where a giggle just came and roll my eyes. There are two girls staring at me as once covers her mouth and points over at me as they whisper. Yes, I know, it's a big fucking deal that _the_ Paul Lahote is standing outside a school holding flowers and not Plan B- get over it already!

Finally, and I mean _finally_ , I hear that perfect, insanely sexy giggle and then feel Jacob's fist on my chest, holding me back.

"Whoa, play it cool man," Jacob laughs. I slap his hand away but stand up straighter; I should take his advice even if it pisses me off.

Scarlett is laughing at something that Nessie said, still not having spotted me, when suddenly a lanky blonde boy with a letterman's jacket comes up to her. He says something to her and she smiles, and suddenly I want to kill this guy so he never makes her smile again. He nudges her shoulder and then she winces and I ignore Jacob calling after me as I charge over to her.

"Hey." I stop in front of Scarlett and notice her eyes widen and then she takes a hesitant step back.

"Ugh," She stammers for a moment. "Hi Paul?"

I hold out the flowers to her and then I notice her eyes soften. She peers those beautiful, big blue eyes up at me and then her mouth pulls up into a soft smile.

"For you," I smile, and then realize that I completely forgot about that blonde kid because Scarlett is so beautiful I honestly can't look at anything or anyone besides her when she is within a 50-mile radius.

"Well that's just adorable." Nessie Cullen breaks our silent little moment and Scarlett's cheeks immediately redden as she swipes a piece of hair behind her ear. I narrow my eyes at my friend's imprint and she rolls hers and then skips down to Jake.

"So ugh," The kid next to me clears his throat and I look over at him like a bug that needs to be crushed. Who the hell does he think he is to cut in? Who does he think he is to even talk to her? "Is tomorrow good?"

Scarlett seems just as surprised as I am but quickly covers her face with a polite smile. I can't help but notice, smugly if I may add, that this particular smile is nothing at all like the one she had when she saw her flowers.

"Oh, ugh," Scarlett bites the corner of her lip and I frown; I only like when she does that to me. "Y-yeah that should be fine. Where do you want to meet?"  
She's meeting him?

"My house?" He suggests.

"No." The word comes out before I can even stop it and both of them turn towards me like I am certifiable.

"Ugh, that's fine Blake."

Blake. Ugh, what a terrible name.

"I'll call Macy and make sure that's good for her but she said in class she was free except for Friday so I think it'll be fine."

Much better.

"Cool," He nods. "Then after maybe we could get a bite to eat or something."

Not cool. No. NO. No way in hell. Mayday. Not cool at _all_!

"Or," She holds out the word for a moment and I think both this Bret kid and I are hanging on every last word. "We could all order pizza?"  
I snicker and this kid actually has the audacity to narrow his eyes at me. Wonder how he would look at me if I made both of those eyes blue.

He grumbles a goodbye and then I am happily left alone with Scarlett.

"Hey," I speak, a smile on my face because I am much, _much_ happier now that we are alone.

"Hey?" She repeats, her eyes staying open like she is waiting for something. I look back at her with a confused expression.

"Hi?" I try again.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" I ask, actually confused.

"That!" She exclaims. "I thought you were going to breathe fire through your mouth and kill him!"

"Oh, _that_." Now I am the one to roll my eyes. "He was being weird."

"No," She speaks slowly, and I stare at her lips that are just slightly parted and perfectly plush. "He was asking if we could get together for a group project."

I roll my eyes. "Scar, come on." She bites the corner of her lip and I wonder why. "He was asking you out."

"Well, maybe at the end," She mumbles beneath her breath.

I smile and then suddenly remember the flowers again. I hold them out to her and then she stares at them for a moment. Although she bites the corner of her lip again, which is basically code that she is a little bit embarrassed; I love it so much. Unlike last time though, she doesn't smile; actually, she takes a step back and then peers up at me nervously.

"What are those?" She asks.

I look down confusedly at my hands. "Flowers?"

She rolls her eyes. "Well I know that! I mean why are you holding them?"

I shake my head. "Scar, would you just take them and stop being so difficult?"

She opens her mouth to say something, most likely a sassy comment, but then closes it. I watch as she debates with herself for a moment and not for the first time do I wish that I could see into her mind. She reaches her perfect, small, smooth looking hand out and then finally takes them.

"Well," She lets out a long breath and nervously presses a piece of hair behind her ear. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I smile brightly and then place my hands into my front pockets because I don't really trust myself not to reach out and touch her.

"Great." Scarlett smiles one last time and then I feel her shoulder brush past mine as she walks around me and then heads off in the other direction.

This was not apart of the plan.

I jog over to catch her and then she jumps when she notices I follow. "What are you doing?" She asks.

"Where are you going?" I ignore her.

"Home?"

"You're walking?"

"Well," She sighs, "Jacob and Nessie already left because you were distracting me and I'm definitely not getting a ride with you."

"Why not?" I can't help but grow defensive at this. How come it is so easy for her to stay away from me, when I nearly die after a day without seeing her?

"Because," She giggles, and all the worry all but runs out of my body. "I am not getting on that two-wheel death machine."

Oh! Right! My mind goes back to two days ago when she had run those perfect hands sexily along the seat of that damn motorcycle I had been fixing and I had seriously had to hold myself back from grabbing her by the waist and setting her down on that seat and kissing her until she passed out.

"Still don't trust me enough?" I grin at her.

She giggles. "Not even close."

"How was school today?"

Her perfect, perfect mouth falls into a straight line with perhaps the hint of a scowl. "I don't want to talk about it," She grumbles. Scarlett looks towards the gravel and then kicks a small stone a few feet ahead of us.

I suppress every instinct to make her do just that. The thing about Scarlett is that she is so intriguing to me; everything she does, everything she thinks, everything she says, every time she lies, I just want to _know_ her.

"Would Nessie not stop talking again?" I try to lighten the mood.

The corner of her lip twitches and I smile at the fact that I perhaps made her feel a tiny bit better. "Mean."

I roll my eyes. "I have heard you yourself say she talks a lot."

"I plead the sixth."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "You mean the fifth?"

Scarlett blinks at me. "No," She holds out the word. "The sixth."

"I am like 95% sure it is the fifth."

"Well you're wrong," She flips her hair and I hold back a laugh. She is so adorable when she is so damn sassy.

"Okay, but it's the fifth."

"Why do you always have to be right about everything?" She snaps, causing my eyes to widen.

"Wow, you really must have had a bad day."

"That's not even what I'm annoyed about," She grumbles and then crosses her arms overtop of her chest. "The problem is you always having to be right about everything."

I think about this for a moment; although people have told me as much before, I never really gave a second's thought to what they thought about me. For some reason, though, when Scarlett says it to me I suddenly find myself going over every instance in which I could have been being a know-it-all over and over and over in my mind.

"Did you not eat today or something?" Before it is even out I know that I should probably, surely, entirely take it back, so I wince immediately, though it doesn't take the effect of Scarlett's eyes practically turning into slits away as she narrows them at me.

"No, this is just something special that I save up for you," She smiles sarcastically.

"You know what, I really don't understand why you're so mad."

"I'm not mad!"

"All I did was bring you flowers."

She bites the inside of her cheek and diverts her gaze to the ground again. I know that it's something else, something that she's not telling me. I know that there is a reason for her being so afraid around me, so afraid around all men, and then pushing me away when it is so obvious that she doesn't want to. Her words counteract her actions and it is so obvious, although I'm not sure if she can even tell.

"I didn't ask for flowers," She speaks quietly.

I stare at her for a second, but decide not to answer. I don't really know what to say to her when she gets like this.

"Come on," I motion with my head to the left and she looks at me uneasily.

"Where are you going?" She asks hesitantly as she points in the other direction. "My house is that way."

"This way's a shortcut," I tell her.

She purses her lips and seems to contemplate it for a moment. "Are you lying to me Paul Lahote?" The corner of her lip pulls up into a sinister smile and all the annoyance and question and contemplation fades away into one huge, captivating bubble of pure Scarlett. I love it when she says my full name like that.

"Maybe," I smile at her and then hold out my hand.

She winces back, and I try not to let it bother me too much. Why is Scarlett so scared of me? I would rather die than hurt her, although she doesn't know that.

Although she ignores my outstretched hand, she does walk in the direction that I pointed her. I nod to myself and then fall into step next to her.

"You look nice today," I try again, referring to her dark blue dress and long legs.

She shifts her gaze to mine just for a moment before focusing it straight ahead again. "Thanks."

I smile at her; she is not very good at taking complements either. Scarlett is honestly the most beautiful girl I have ever seen; she attracts a crowd, she really does, although she doesn't know it one bit.

"Do you have a lot of homework?" I ask her, hoping that she doesn't catch on that I am basically asking if she is going to be free tonight and in turn lie to me.

"No." Her face falls again and she peers down at the ground.

"Scarlett," I speak, trying to make my voice as soft as it will go. "What happened today?" Now I am actually beginning to get worried. She just seems so unlike herself. Although she's always been timid, she genuinely seems upset now.

"Nothing." She picks her face up and then offers me a fake smile; I can so easily distinguish between the two now.

"D-," I begin to tell her not to lie to me but then slam my mouth shut. All I want to do is push her, but I know that it won't work with her.

Thankfully, the exact spot I had wanted to take her to shows up a less than a block away, so the awkward silence that fell over us is wiped away.

I hold the door open for her and watch as her perfect, pretty little head contemplates whether she should cause an issue out of this or just accept.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

I sigh. I am beginning to realize that she never just accepts anything. "Buying you a coffee."

Her eyes widen. "No way!"

"Why not?" I search for some patience that I do not attain.

Her pink lips pull up into an easy smile. "Because then it would be a date."

I can't help but smile back at her. I open the door wider and then love the way that she rolls her eyes and steps inside. I lead her to a small table by the window as she looks around the room trying to pretend like she doesn't love it here.

I pull out her chair and she sits in it absentmindedly. "Not a date," She mumbles quietly as I push her towards the table.

I smile although I entirely disagree.

She places her flowers on the side of the table as she peers around the room. "What is this place?" She asks finally, and I suppress a laugh for I know how much she must _hate_ admitting that she is interested in it.

"One of my mom's friends owns it. I've never really had an interest in it before, but it seems like a place that you would like."

"Hm." She looks around the room again and I watch with intrigue at the way that her eyes catch on the bookcases and windows and tables that seat just one. A small smile encompasses her face and I know that I was right. This is probably the perfect place for Scarlett.

A waitress comes over that I immediately recognize as a mutual friend through a girl I hooked up with once, though thankfully she doesn't make any inclination that she knows me. Scarlett claims she doesn't want anything, but I cut in and order us both a hot chocolate, for I don't even know if she likes coffee or not, and she just rolls her eyes, although she doesn't argue.

As soon as the girl leaves I breathe a sigh of relief. "Do you like coffee?" I ask her.

She giggles. "I love coffee."

"Really?"

She matches my gaze. "Is that surprising? Is it not attractive to like coffee or something?"

I try not to look at her like she is insane; nothing that this girl ever did could make her in any possible way unattractive.

"Not at all!" I laugh, "I was just wondering."

"You just wonder a lot," She says, although she finishes with a smile, so I know that she is only teasing and not really mad at me.

"I'm interested in you," I tell her, honestly seeping into my voice without permission.

Her eyes flicker up to mine, and for a second there we just stare at each other. Scarlett gulps and then peers towards her lap, breaking whatever the hell that was. "I- I've- I'll be right back."

She stands abruptly and I nearly run after her, worried that she is just going to walk out the front door, when I notice her head towards the bathroom. I relax; even if her plan is to sneak out through the bathroom, I know that there aren't any windows back there, so she won't have a chance.

She returns a few minutes later with a straight face filled with worry. Jesus Christ, what could have happened to this girl from the time she left for the bathroom until now?

Scarlett takes a seat and then begins gnawing on the inside of her cheek… again.

"What's up?" I ask her.

She bites the corner of her lip, and then she opens her mouth, but closes it again. She does this a few more times before she just keeps it closed. As soon as I give up on her actually speaking to me, she surprises me. "You never mention your parents."

Her question shocks me, and I know that it must be visible, for she peers at me very nervously.

"Ugh, right," I stutter with my words for a second. "Where'd that come from?"

She gulps. "You just never mention them is all."

"Neither do you," I observe.

She looks towards her lap. "Nevermind."

I sigh. "My mom and I have a great relationship. I'm probably not as nice to her as I should be sometimes, but she's a great woman and she knows I would do anything for her. Never met my dad."

"What?" She asks, leaning towards me a little. I honestly think this is the first time I have sensed real interest in Scarlett that she isn't able to hide, which is funny considering it is about my parents.

I shrug. "He left when I was a baby. I guess he used to beat up on my mom."

Scarlett's eyes soften. There is something behind them that I've never seen before, and the next thing I know, she is crying.

 **Scarlett's POV**

As soon as he speaks that last word I am crying.

I am not sure how it happened, or necessarily why; all I know is that I am crying and I can't stop and everything just seems so damn terrible today. Paul's eyes widen at me as thick, heavy sobs threaten to erupt out of my chest. I notice his panic and suck them in, attempting to hold them back and not completely lose the last of my self-respect.

"I-I'm sorry," I quiver. "T-that was just the worst s-story I've e-ever heard," I suck in a breath, "A-and I j-just had the w-worst day today. But that's not even r-really it. The real sad thing is that when I went to the bathroom, I-I s-saw this little g-girl with the s-s-saddest little pigtails and one of them fell out and, and n-no one would fix it for her and I j-just wanted to tell her they look pretty because when you get older no one tells you look pretty anymore except for guys when they want to get into your p-pants or if they only want to say it so that they can get you to do whatever they want when they stop saying it so that they will say it again. A-and so there I was, s-s-s-staring at those sad, stupid pigtails that just completely made this day the worst one ever."

I look up at him for a split second to see him staring at me. He probably thinks I just lost it; in all honestly I think I did too. There was a little girl in the bathroom with a pigtail that fell out, but that's nothing to cry about! What is wrong with me? All I know is that I can't stop.

"Ugh," Paul stammers, and if I wasn't struggling to stop crying so much I would actually laugh at how much of a deer caught in headlights he looks like. "Don't cry."

He reaches across the table and I don't even have time or really even think about wincing or pulling away as he rests his hot, hot hand on my arm and I bite the corner of my lip. I bite the corner of my lip because I know that I like him but that is exactly why I am so entirely upset. I am upset for reasons that I am not ready to admit yet.

"Scar?" I look up at his surprisingly gentle voice to see him leaning towards me. I am surprised but how much I want to just fall into him. It's just some guy, some guy whose ex-girlfriend is one of the many reasons why I had such a terrible school day today, who sleeps in a rotation through the cheerleading squad, who guys say "I Paul Lohoted her!" in the cafeteria because I guess he is somewhat of a legend. Yet, he's just Paul to me. Paul who puts me to bed when I fall asleep and asks me out on a date and brings me into a little coffee shop and doesn't leave even though I continually tell him that I want him to stay away from me. And so I stare at him, the Paul that I know, the one that is nothing like what everyone else says he is like, and she stares right back, as tears slide down my face for reasons that I can't even begin to understand.

"Alright! We've got two hot chocolates." Our waitress comes at the worst possible time and I pull my arm away from Paul's hand immediately, embarrassed as I try to wipe the tears from my face.

"Oh, honey," The waitress that I just now realize is about the same age as me puts her hand on my shoulder and my eyes widen in shock. "Trust me, you are not the first girl that Paul Lahote," She stops to narrow her eyes at him, "Has made cry."

My mouth drops. I look at Paul and he looks at me with equally as wide eyes, and then suddenly I burst out laughing.

A laugh slips between my lips and I stare towards my lap, trying to control myself although it is just as impossible as trying to stop myself from crying before. I shake my head as Paul starts to laugh as well and then that poor waitress looks from Paul to me and then from me back to him, eventually just slowly walking away.

I place my head in my hands and shake my head again. What is even going on today?

"Let's take these to go, shall we?" Paul asks with a sigh and a casual smile.

I place my palms on the table and then push myself into a standing. "Great idea."

He calls the waitress back over, although she sends another girl over because I am quite sure she is slightly afraid of our hysterics, and she brings us the check.

Right as Paul reaches for his pocket, I slide the check over to me and then pull out ten dollars and set it on the table, standing up with a small smile. "Not a date, remember?"

He looks uncertainly at the check before he begrudgingly places his wallet back into his pocket. "Well I would hope not," He says as he stands, "I mean you did cry."

I can't help but giggle. "See, we're not compatible."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say, Scar."

My house winds up only being a few minutes from that coffee shop, and I find myself wishing that I hadn't had a complete mental breakdown in there so I could go again.

Paul and I don't really talk the rest of the way to my house, but a comfortable silence fills the air versus an awkward one like on the way to the coffee shop.

Both of us had finished our hot chocolates that would usually be too hot for a summer day, but this is Forks, so it is technically what people in the south consider cold, and threw them out in town, so I find myself stumbling with my fingers, not quite sure what to do with my hands.

"Well," I sigh once we finally reach my house. "Thanks for being so nice to me today." It seems like the only appropriate thing to say.

Paul laughs, and I love the way it looks on his face. "You are very welcome; gosh it was really hard I must admit."

I roll my eyes. "Bye.

"Hey, hang on a second." Paul reaches behind my back and then pulls all of my hair in front of my shoulders. I examine him closely as I watch his face in concentration as he bunches the hair together on one side rather sloppily; it isn't until he pulls a rubber-band off of his wrist and ties it low and loose with a little bit of a struggle, around my hair, that I realize what is going on, and why he had asked for two rubber bands on the way out.

Paul does the same thing to the other one and then smiles smally at me as he runs his fingers down the length of them. "I think you look very pretty," He tells me softly, "And I promise I am not just trying to get in your pants." And I suddenly stare at this man with the crooked smile who just put my hair into pigtails and feel things that scare me.

He is so damn cute; such a guy, but so innocently caring that it just makes me want to hug him and never let go. The only thing he got from my complete mental breakdown is that I want pigtails and want to be called pretty, and suddenly I just need him.

Before I have a chance to talk myself out of it, I tilt my chin up and timidly press my face closer to his. Paul leans forward, and as soon as I close my eyes I get a waft of his cologne that smells like laundry and cinnamon at the same time. His lips brush against mine and I actually feel a jolt of electricity shoot down my spine. I press my lips closer to his, losing myself in the way that they melt into his lips, and mold together into something perfect.

Paul's lips are soft and gentle but I find myself needing more. I press myself harder to him, and when he slips his hand across my cheek and then pulls my face closer, I completely lose myself.

I drop my flowers onto the ground so I can wrap my arms around his neck. I have never felt something so amazing before; so safe yet so electrifying, and so I never want it to end. I notice myself clinging my arms tightly around his neck and kissing him more, although I can't be sure. I am in an ulterior universe where my feelings control my actions and not my thoughts- honestly, I can't even think when I am kissing him.

He pulls away from me for just a second, a moment of our lips parted and a moment when I realize that they should never not be connected, and we both shift sides to kiss each other again at a different angle and I find my stomach flipping. Every time our lips touch it feels even better than the first time, and I find both of us searching the other for all the different things we could make each other feel just from a kiss.

I feel Paul's fingers brush against the skin of my waist and I actually gasp against his lips, and then I immediately feel embarrassed for it. Paul pulls his hand away and then slowly, oh so slowly, presses both of his palms to the back of my head and pushes me closer.

With my hands still around his neck, I bravely trail my fingers to where his hairline ends and brush my fingers against the skin there. Paul shudders, and I smile into the kiss; I hadn't thought that I would be able to make him react the same way as I had.

"Scarlett," Paul breathes into my mouth. I force my brain to remember the way that it sounded when Paul moaned my name against my lips because I have quite honestly never heard something so amazing before.

I kiss him again and he presses his into mine easily. Unexpectantly, Paul gently pulls my face away from his and I bite the corner of my lip, suddenly realizing how greedy I was being and feeling very, very embarrassed.

Paul merely smiles and runs his thumb along my bottom lip, his eyes following his movement and making me gulp. "Scarlett," He repeats, "Will you go on a date with me?"

My eyes widen. I want to take a step back but don't really want him to stop touching me, so I find myself at a loss for words and actions.

"No," I answer on impulse.

"Scar," Paul moans, and I actually think I die right then and there because hearing him moan my nickname is truly annoyingly amazing. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" I ask, a slight rasp to my voice. I just want to kiss him again and stop talking.

"I already told you," He sighs and then takes my face between his hands. "I see past it, Scar. I already know you're not as tough as you want everyone to think you are. So stop. Stop and say yes. Please." He adds the please after a few seconds of silence, and it only seems half-hearted, although I do appreciate it.

The wind blows my hair into my face and Paul swipes it away. I nearly melt. "Fine."

Fine? Really Scarlett? My brain is screaming at my mouth but all it wants to do is kiss him some more.

"Really?" He asks, and then he seems to pull himself together and hide his surprise a little more. "I mean good. Great!"

I chuckle, and then I find my gaze dropping to his lips again. I watch as they pull up at the corners and then he kisses me again.

I cling my hands to the collar of his shirt and swear I have never in my life felt something so amazing as he wraps his arms around my waist. I feel entirely safe, and the funny thing, is that it makes me feel unsafe at the same time.

Oh no.

But _oh yes._

* * *

Wahoo! Please let me know what you think below!


	7. The Hustle

WAHOO! An update is here! Because it took so long (which I am very sorry about btw) this one is extra long, so enjoy! I already started the next chapter so it should be posted ASAP!

Also, thank you so so so much for all the new followers! I have gotten some super sweet reviews lately, and I just want you all to know that reading your thoughts absolutely makes my day! I hope you like this chapter:)

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I haven't answered one single one of Paul's phone calls. Guilt washes over me, hot and heavy and debilitating as I scroll through the list of missed calls in my phone. Seven. _Seven_. I nervously run my fingers through my hair and gnaw on the inside of my cheek.

When I had said yes to a date, I hadn't actually thought about what that really, truly meant until I fell from the ulterior universe entitled, "Kissing Paul Lahote," and was suddenly standing in my kitchen, looking for something to eat, realizing that I did, in fact, just _kiss Paul Lahote_.

Once I actually managed to convince myself that I wasn't dreaming, which took about five minutes if I am being entirely honest, I was confronted with the cold, hard truth of the matter; I am utterly, and entirely terrified.

I like Paul, that isn't the problem- actually, that very well may be the entire problem. Never in my life have I actually felt genuinely guilty about not calling a guy, hell, anyone back, yet here I am practically on the verge of tears as I think about Paul's hopeful face as he dials up my number and then is faced with rejection. I can't answer, I know that, but I find myself hating myself for it. I know that eventually he will stop calling, and no, no I don't want that at all.

But I can't have _him_.

I nervously tap my fingers along the desk in my room and then quickly reach for a worn and tattered copy of one of my favorite books. I flip to a random page and take a steadying breath as I force my eyes to scan the words, only, I can't comprehend the sentences. I can't stop thinking about Paul.

"Ugh!" I moan in frustration and in a burst of frustration throw the book across the room and then drop my head into my hands. This is one of those times when I am not properly equipped to be alone. I don't know how to do it because I've never truly been it before, and suddenly my thoughts are scaring me and I'm standing up and throwing on a jacket and rushing through the front door and walking as fast as I can so I won't go back into that house with the walls that are too close together and the memories that are burning holes into my head and Paul and Paul. Paul.

I place my hands into my pockets and squeeze my eyes shut. Stop thinking about him!

He's sweet. So sweet and gentle, and funny and kind. He brings me flowers and wow, the way he kisses me, the way he _touches_ me; it doesn't make me cringe. It makes my stomach do somersaults but in a different nervousness than the nervousness of expecting a blow.

I have absolutely no idea what the hell I am doing, or where the hell I am going, until I make a b-line in the opposite direction, heading straight for Nessie Cullen.

Once I reach her doorstep (in record time by the way), I realize that I have never actually showed up at a "girlfriend's" house with boy problems before, so for a second I kind of just stand there shifting on my feet uncomfortably trying to convince myself to leave.

I should go.

I knock on the front door.

"Oh, hey Scarlett," Mr. Cullen greets me happily as he opens the door before I even have a chance to drop my hand, opens the door to his house and then steps to the side for me to pass.

I stiffen on instinct; fathers aren't really my forte, even if Mr. Cullen has been nothing but nice to me. I offer him a small hello and then brush past him and head straight for Nessie's room. I open the door without knocking, and low and behold, Jacob Black's hand is up my best friend's shirt.

"Okay," I speak the word quickly and void emotions as I turn to face away from them and then cross my arms. I hear a scuffling in the background and some shifting of furniture as I wait patiently.

"Ugh, h-hey Scarlett," Nessie's usually calm and collected voice holds a little bit of a waiver. "What's up?"

"Nothing," I moan and then when I think it is safe I turn with an over-dramatic frown on my face and stomp over to her bed. I throw myself underneath the covers and then burry my face in the pillows. "I hate myself," I moan, my voice muffled.

"What?" She asks, sitting down next to me.

I dramatically lift my head just to speak. "I hate myself." I let my face fall harshly back into the pillow and then moan at myself.

"What happened?" I hear a small giggle in her voice and would roll my eyes if I could.

I don't even know how to answer that. This whole, sharing my feelings with a friend thing is entirely a foreign language to me. "Stupid Paul," I mutter angrily, for he is the whole reason for all of this.

I feel the bed shift next to me and lift my head up carefully to see Jacob Black lying down on the couch behind Nessie. Since he picks Nessie and I up everyday from school, I have grown pretty comfortable around him.

"Alright Scarlett, what's going on with you? Why haven't you called Paul back?"

My mouth drops and I sit up in anger. "What! How do you even know about that?" I demand.

Jacob stares at me like I am a bomb that is about to explode. "Come on, you're obviously miserable."

"Yeah," I widen my eyes. "I _am_ miserable. Because of him!" I drop to the bed with an angry huff and then hug a pillow to my chest as I roll over onto my side. I bury my mouth into the pillow and then look up at them in mock anger.

"Do you not like Paul?" Jacob asks, softer this time.

I feel so uncomfortable in this type of situation, I don't really know what to do, or how to answer them. "No," I whimper, "I mean yes. I mean, maybe," I let my voice trail off.

"So you do?" Nessie blurts, and I narrow my eyes at her.

"Maybe you're so upset because you _do_ like him," Jacob suggests.

"Maybe you just have no idea what you're talking about," I huff angrily.

"We're actually going over to his place tonight," Jacob begins, un-phased by my rudeness, "You should come. I'm sure he called to invite you."

My face stings from the silent blow; he probably did, although I didn't answer. "No."

"But don't you want to?" Jacob asks.

Yes, I really do. "No, I don't."

"Please," Nessie holds out the word and shakes my shoulder. "You never hangout with me."

"I do too hangout with you!" I angrily swipe the hair out of my face and sit up. I need to become a rational human being again before I really go off the deep end.

"You hangout with me once a weekend, _maybe_ , and a few times after school to do homework if I beg you," She raises her eyebrows at me.

"Well," I search for a response but realize that she is right. The opposition of this life from my last one is actually rather shocking; I went from never having a moment to myself to rarely hanging out with the only friend that I made. I don't understand it myself. "It's more than I hangout with anyone else?"

Nessie rolls her eyes. "Come on, you're coming."

"B-but I can't come." I peer down nervously at my leggings and tee-shirt and bite my lip.

"Don't worry, I've got you covered," Nessie grabs my hand and pulls me up.

"Oh you're going to love this," I hear Jacob mumble underneath his breath.

Before I have a chance to wonder what the hell that means, Renesmee's booming voice makes me jump. "Alice!"

* * *

"I never thought I would ever say this," I take a deep breath as we pile into Jacob's truck, "But thank God you were born Jacob."

Jacob laughs and Nessie rolls her eyes. "No problem Scarlett. I know Alice can get a little carried away.

"A little?" I grumble. "If it hadn't been for you I would have showed up looking like I was planning on making an honest living tonight!"

Now both Jacob and Nessie burst into laughter.

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Nessie defends.

"Renesmee," I speak with an even tone. "She had me in a skin-tight black dress and four inch heels. I looked like a baby prostitute."

She giggles and I can't help but giggle myself. Although I am only joking, the truth is that if it wasn't for Jacob I probably would have walked out in that. He had sensed my panic and then practically shielded me from Renesmee's very nice but _very_ bossy aunt as he shoved me back into Nessie's bedroom that became my very personal dressing room and told me to pick whatever I wanted. I don't think I have ever been so grateful for someone in my life.

Now here we are, and I ended up in some sort of black romper thing that somehow shows off my legs while being casual enough to throw flip-flops on with. Although Alice let the outfit slide, she _did_ insist on straightening my hair, though that didn't take much because it is naturally straight with a little bit of a wave to it.

All in all, I look like I am trying _way_ too hard, and suddenly I realize that this is a terrible idea and I start to panic and I am screaming at myself and wondering what the hell I was thinking and contemplating throwing myself from the car and screaming and running and never looking back and…

"We're here!" Nessie jumps up excitedly and I blink a few times.

I am not going in there.

I step out of the car and try to be subtle as I smooth the wrinkles out in my romper.

Jacob reaches overtop of Nessie and I to hold the door open and then laughs at me. "Paul is sure going to be happy to see you."

That's it. I'm gone.

I turn on my heel but Nessie practically dislocates my shoulder as she drags me into Paul's apartment.

As soon as I step inside I feel that there is truly no way out. I hear laughter to my left and then slowly turn, pure fear and panic as I connect my eyes with a familiar, but not particularly special pair of brown ones.

"Scarlett?" Embry questions, and I nearly drop dead right there at the amount of shock in his voice and at how the rest of the room filled with at least four other guys and two girls goes silent.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. God! How on earth was I able to be so damn popular at my old school and here I can't even form complete sentences to save my life!

"Yeah, we know she's perfect; I think you're drooling Embry."

Nessie Cullen comes to my rescue and I remind myself that I am indebted to this annoying little awesome chick.

Embry rolls his eyes but then the rest of the room goes back to their casual chatter and I take a breath of relief, although I suddenly realize something that I have no idea how I missed in the first place.

"Is that a… pool table?"

"Yeah," I hear an unfamiliar female voice and turn to see one of the girls I only briefly met at the bonfire walking over to me. She has short, straight, dark brown hair that ends a little bit past her shoulders, and an overall sporty look about her that draws me in. "About a year ago a few of the guys got the brilliant idea to replace all of the furniture with a pool table.

I can't help but laugh as I watch Embry attempt to make a shot while nearly putting a hole through the wall with his pool stick. The pool table is obviously _way_ too big for the room, although it gives off a sort of vibe that I can't quite place; all I know is that I like it.

No- no I don't.

"I'm Kim by the way," The girl says to me, pulling my attention back to her.

"Oh," I nod my head and force a smile onto my face.

"I'm engaged to Jared. He's right," He squints her eyes and points at one of the three pool players, "There. And that's Sam next to him, he's married to Emily who is over there."

My eyes connect with Emily and then I practically have to force my jaw back up when I get a good look at her face. She has huge, thick scars covering her skin, so abundant and shocking that it takes everything in me to be able to look away.

I gulp and shift nervously on my feet; for some reason that makes me feel extremely uncomfortable, like it brings up other feelings than just seeing her scarred. I nod my head again.

It is rather nice to be able to put faces with names.

"You're Scarlett, right?" Kim smiles reassuringly though I just nod my head again.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," She smiles again and I actually smile back this time, because though I am not meaning to, I am being very, very rude. "And hey," She nudges my shoulder. "Don't let these boys get to you. Their bark is much worse than their bite."

Now I actually do laugh.

"I wasn't planning on it," I sigh. "Is Paul here?"

As soon as I ask I slam my mouth shut and internally scream at myself.

No. Take it back! Take it back now! You don't care. You _don't care!_

"I think he's in his room."

Interest prickles at my mind as I nervously peak over at the single, thin staircase in the back of the room.

"Go on up," She nods her head enthusiastically.

No way.

"Okay."

I bite the corner of my lip and then try to keep my eyes locked straight ahead as I squeeze past the pool table and then ascend the steps, although I know that everyone in the room must be staring at me and wondering where I am going.

Honestly, I am wondering where I am going.

I get to the top of the steps where there is one, single door that is slightly cracked and know that I should just go back down and wait for him to come down like a normal person. Why do I even want him to come down in the first place? Actually, I don't want him to come down at all.

I hesitantly push the door open a little bit more and then step inside.

I barely have time to take in the _extremely_ messy room before another door opens and Paul emerges from the bathroom… in a towel.

"Oh!" I gasp and my eyes widen and suddenly it is as if my feet are glued to the ground. You know what, I really need to learn how to knock.

Paul stops walking too, his eyes growing equally as wide as we just stand there staring at each other for a second. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and it is only when I see my reflection of basically a tomato staring back at me from a mirror across the room that I finally turn around.

"Oh, ugh, I-I'm s-sorry. I'll j-just go." I turn to leave but then suddenly Paul grabs my arm and I crumble.

"Hey, wait!"

I gasp and wince away and fold in on myself, my hand coming up to protect my stomach, on impulse, because I know that that is somewhere that _he_ always preferred to go, and fall limp in his grasp.

Paul's hand freezes, and I realize that Paul is not _him_. Paul is not actually going to hurt me. Paul is Paul. Paul is Paul is Paul is Paul; but I still can't move.

"Scarlett," He speaks slowly, his voice coming out pained.

I whimper a sound that is even incomprehensible to me and shake my head at the ground. I hate the way that his hand is still clutching my arm, and I hate the way that I hate it so much. I am debilitated, powerless because I am so afraid, although I don't know why I am afraid in the first place.

"Scarlett?"

I bite my cheek so hard I taste blood and will myself not to cry. I just want him to let go of me.

Instead, he does the exact opposite, which seems to be a growing theme when it comes to Paul. I feel his other palm gently swipe against my shoulder, and I immediately stiffen, my body already on high alert. Paul rubs my skin for a moment as I stare towards the floor, and then he lets go of my wrist and wraps his arms around my back.

At first I tense, and then suddenly I take a deep breath of him and I melt. That same sense of security that surrounded me when I kissed him is back, and I fall into the surprising and new safety that I feel when his hot, hot, much too hot to be human- temperature wise of course- body presses into mine. I press my cheek against his bare chest and let my eyes close for a moment.

Paul gently rocks us back and forth as I press my arms tighter to my chest and then in turn press myself closer to his chest. It isn't until I catch a glimpse of us in that very same mirror that I finally become myself again.

I gasp and jump back, quickly turning on my heel and nearly tripping but somehow staying on my feet. "Y-y-you're, you're, you- ugh, you're naked!" I stammer.

It takes a few seconds, but then I hear the floorboards creak and a few drawers open and I swear I hear a towel fall to the floor although that is probably just my highly overactive imagination.

"Clothed," He sighs, although I don't trust him one bit.

I turn for a quick moment to peak out of the corner of my eye, and when I do in fact notice fabric that is not the same color of his skin, I relax and turn towards him again. I abruptly realize that I have absolutely no idea what to say. "Hi."

Paul's lip pulls up at the corner. "Hi."

"Ugh, sorry about just- I mean, I should have knocked." I shift on my feet uncomfortably."

"You don't need to knock, Scar; you can come in whenever you want."

I don't really know how to respond to that.

"You look nice," Paul says as he places his hands in his front pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels.

"Ugh," I peer down at myself and totally feel like an idiot, although that is really nothing new. "You know what, I really shouldn't have come up here."

"No, Scarlett."

I jump back but Paul stays where he is, holding his hands up in front of him and staring at me as he takes a hesitant step towards me. "I'm not going to hurt you," He says after a moment.

I lose the tension in my shoulders and all of a sudden just feel like crying. I am making a complete fool out of myself.

"I am just worried if you leave again I'm not going to see you for about another three weeks."

I finally look at him, and I mean really look at him; look at him without this ridiculous fear that he is going to hurt me or freak out because he doesn't have clothes on, and then I find myself giggling.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, and quite honestly, I really am. The last time he saw me I practically had a mental breakdown, and with the way tonight is going I can guess that I am on track for another one in no time.

"Ah don't be," Paul shrugs and it actually makes me smile. "It's not your fault you don't knock; you're a little bit rude, you can't help it."

I roll my eyes. "I am _not_ rude."

He raises his eyebrows at me. "Actually," He crosses his arms overtop of his chest and I gulp. "Telling a guy yes to a date and then going a-wall is a little bit rude."

"I didn't necessarily say yes," I squeak.

"Scarlett," He matches my gaze.

"I said fine!" I stammer. "Two entirely different things!"

"Alright," Paul sighs and then leans against the wall. "You've got two options. One, tell me why you haven't called me back; or two, tell me what's up with you thinking I'm going to hurt you."

I completely freeze.

I actually think I become ice.

No, honestly, I die.

Dead.

"What?" I somehow manage to keep my voice even.

"Scar, would you talk to me?" Paul's voice is so gentle that I nearly want to spill my guts out right then and there.

"Maybe this is why I don't want to go on a date with you. You ask hard questions."

Paul's face falls into a veil of confusion for a second before he plasters on an unreadable one. "Fine," He sighs and then offers me a small smile. "What's your favorite color?"

I fight against my lips that threaten to pull into a wide grin. "Well what's _your_ favorite color?" I counter.

"Scarlett," Paul actually laughs as he shakes his head. "These are easy questions. Would you just answer them and stop being so damn difficult all the time."

I narrow my eyes at him but mumble a response. "Orange."

"Really?" He peers at me skeptically.

"What? Do you think I'm lying about my favorite color?" I roll my eyes.

"I would have thought it would have been blue or something like that," Paul looks at me quizzically.

"No, I hate blue," I answer on impulse. The truth is that I hate all those colors; red, blue, yellow, green, purple, even black, because I have seen them one too many times before, and they remind me of something I wouldn't care to forget. So basically the only color left for me to choose from is orange.

"Okay, no blue," Paul mumbles to himself and I bite my lip again. "What about your favorite animal?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Really?"

"Woman, you are-," Paul begins, but I cut him off with a sigh.

"Probably a monkey."

"Really?" He seems just as taken aback by this as he was with my favorite color.

"Yeah," I can't help but giggle at how confused he is with my answers. "If I could have any pet in the world it would totally be a pet chimp."

Paul laughs gently, and I stare at the way that his chest vibrates and wonder what it would feel like for a split second before I look away. "You know those things can eat your face off, right?"

That reminds me of something. I debate with myself for a moment before I clasp my hands nervously to my sides and then walk over to sit next to Paul on the bed. He stares at me as I do so, but doesn't move from his spot where he is leaning over, his elbows resting on his thighs as his tee-shirt clings to his very muscular chest and I can see his gold chain peaking out from beneath his collar and good God this was not a good idea.

"Can I ask you something?" I speak quietly.

Paul doesn't shift his gaze from mine. "Of course you can."

"What happened to Emily's face?"

My question is blunter than I intended it to be, and I immediately feel terrible for it when Paul's face practically pales.

"I- I'm sorry," I stammer, feeling like the worst person in the world. "I shouldn't have asked. N-nevermind."

"No, it's okay," Paul tells me, seeming to regain his composure. He reaches across and pulls my hands, that are nervously picking at each other, apart and then rests his hand overtop of one of my own. I stare down at his large, tan skin and bite my lip.

"Emily was attacked by a bear a few years ago," He tells me softly.

My eyes widen. "Really?"

He nods his head slowly. "Just, don't go into the woods alone at night, okay? Or into any barns with horses for that matter."

I gulp, the lie sounding dirty as it fell from his lips.

"Scarlett?" Paul's tone is so soft and his words are so gentle that I don't even recognize them. I peer up at him from beneath my lashes only to see him staring at me in this way that makes me wonder if he can read my mind, which I hate as much as I love. "You know I would never hurt you, right?"

I wince, although this time it is not from being afraid. I guess a small part of me always thought that Paul took my odd distaste of being touched personally, but now I am slapped in the face with it. Paul thinks that _he_ is the one that I am afraid of.

I dig my nails into my palms and bite the insides of my cheeks. After a moment, Paul notices and then frowns at my lap as he pulls my hand away. "Don't do that," He tells me sternly.

I can't breathe correctly.

"I, I need s-some air," I tell him suddenly, my lungs constricting right before my very eyes like some sort of a movie that I am watching about myself; like it isn't actually happening to me. My breaths come in short, quick gasps as my eyes widen and panic overtakes me in an instant; I really can't breathe.

"Scarlett?" Paul questions, but I am too busy worrying about my screaming lungs to really notice the worry in his voice.

"I- I- I-I," I am trying to speak but there isn't enough air and oh my God, what is going on? "I can't breathe," I finally manage to get out. My mouth drops open, not able to take in enough air before I gasp again and wow my head is spinning and the room is spinning and everything is getting a little fuzzy.

I can't think.

Paul throws something in front of my face and when I ignore it I feel something press up against my mouth and fight against it for a moment before Paul wraps his hand around the back of my neck to hold me steady, and I am finally forced to breathe.

The fuzziness that had threatened to overtake me only a few seconds ago turns into a ringing in my ears that is soon abolished as I can finally take in full, deep breaths at a time. Only then do I realize that what Paul has forced onto my face is no other than a brown paper bag, and from the smell of it I am guessing some old Chinese takeout. The only problem with being able to breathe again is also being able to feel embarrassed again.

I go to push the bag away from me but Paul only holds it there tighter. I pull against his wrist but he hardly even budges.

"Not yet," He speaks softly, soothingly even, and finally I let my hand drop into my lap as I continue to normalize my breathing.

"There you go," He murmurs. I have to close my eyes to keep from crying from the embarrassment.

After what feels like a century, Paul finally removes the bag. I breathe in a full breath of fresh air and am happy when I notice how easy it is.

"Do you feel better?" Paul asks gently.

I stare straight into my lap until I feel a finger press up underneath my chin. He pushes my face up so that I have to connect my much unworthy eyes with his perfect ones, and immediately I am taken aback by how close his face got.

"Do you?" He repeats.

I nod my head a few times and then pull away from him.

"I'm sorry," I tell him honestly. God, Paul doesn't need to deal with this.

"Don't be sorry baby girl."

My mouth drops.

I think I start flying into a parallel universe as soon as he says those two words. My eyes are wide and my stomach is doing somersaults and I can't stop staring at his lips, wishing that he would just say it again so I can be sure that it wasn't a dream.

Paul holds my gaze. "Do you, like that?" He asks hesitantly.

I am pulled right out of my daydream. "No," I answer quickly.

Paul shoots me a patronizing expression and I try to plaster on a face of dignity, although I have all but lost every ounce of that in the last five minutes. "Are you lying to me?" He asks.

I roll my eyes, though I don't answer.

"Do you have panic attacks often?"

My cheeks redden immediately at his question that I was definitely not expecting. I guess a naïve part of myself was hoping that he would just forget the whole thing ever happened and never mention it again.

"I didn't have a panic attack," I mumble beneath my breath.

"Scar?" Paul pushes up on my chin again and with a little more force than before is able to push it up to meet his gaze. "You did."

I bite my lip and subconsciously begin bouncing my knee, although Paul rests his hand overtop of my thigh and I immediately idle.

"I don't want to talk about it Paul," I mumble, my words all-forming together.

"You never want to talk about anything," Paul counters.

I divert my gaze. "I can't, okay?"

"Just," Paul's voice breaks for just a moment and I am able to hear the frustration in his voice before he pulls it back together. "Just tell me if this has happened before, so that I need to know if I need to take you to the hospital or not."

Quite honestly, even if it hadn't happened before, I would have told him yes; that is because every fiber in my being is calculated and taught and wired to never, ever go to a hospital. Luckily for me, though, I don't have to lie. "Yes," I just barely whisper.

For some reason Paul knowing this, embarrasses me beyond belief. I slam my eyes shut and blink them tightly a few times; I just want to go back and make it so that this day never happened.

"It kind of seems like your days are dramatically getting rougher and rougher, Scar."

And just like that, I am laughing, because Paul Lahote proves once again that he knows exactly what to say to make me feel better.

I sigh and nod my head sadly. "I'm sorry I've been so terrible."

"You haven't been terrible," He nudges my shoulder. "Not even a little bit."

I roll my eyes at him. "You shouldn't be so nice to me."

Now Paul is the one to roll his eyes. "I think I am the perfect amount of nice to you, actually."

"We should probably go back downstairs so people don't get the wrong impression," I bite my lip.

"Do you want to go downstairs?" He asks me quietly.

I match my gaze with his and take a steadying breath. "No," I reply honestly.

"Then let them." Paul heaves a heavy sigh and then pats my thigh and I stare at my skin once the action is done and blink a few times, swearing that I merely imagined the heat that his skin left.

"What do you want to do?" I press my hair behind my ears.

"We could talk?" Paul suggests with a knowing smile.

I can't help but laugh. "The last time we tried that I merely collapsed."

"You want to play seven minutes in heaven?" He jokes with a guilty smile.

I dramatically roll my eyes to be sure that he saw. "You are incredible."

"So what do you do in your spare time then, hm?" He laughs and I stare at his muscles tensing beneath his shirt. Dear God he is so attractive.

"What do you mean, 'what do I do in my spare time?' I am a very busy girl!"

"Not now you're not," He counters. "You're actually kind of a loner."

My mouth drops. "I am _not_ a loner! I have friends!"

"One friend," He corrects me, and I would be annoyed if it wasn't for the teasing grin on his face the entire time.

"So not true," I shove his shoulder and he smiles a little bit wider. "You're my friend, aren't you?"

Paul's expression softens for a second. "Of course I am, Scar."

"See," I giggle, ignoring the way that he just looked at me. "Then between you and Nessie, that makes two."

"Oh aren't you just miss popular over here," He shakes my knee.

"Stop it," I complain. "You're making me feel bad!"

"I'm sorry," He pats my thigh again and I stare at him a bit uncomfortably. Paul touches me a lot. I have never really noticed it before- well, I mean, I _always_ notice it, but I never really noticed how much he touched me until I actually think about it. A part of me wonders if it means something, but then I must conclude that that is just how he is used to touching girls.

"So what do you do with all that free time then, hm?" He continues, "Do you dog-walk, volunteer at the local soup kitchen, go out to clubs with an alter-ego, ballroom dance?"

I burst out into laughter. "Ballroom dance? No way! I have two left feet!"

Paul chuckles. "How? Didn't you say you were on the dance team?"

"No," I giggle. "That is like the one sport or club that I specifically left off of that list. And before you ask, cheerleading is much more about steps than rhythm."

"That's impossible," Paul shakes his head. "You have to have rhythm, look at you."

I peer down at myself quizzically and see a black romper and skinny legs. "What is that supposed to mean?" I ask hesitantly.

Paul laughs and then stands up. "Come on." He holds his hands out to me and I tense but manage not to wince, which I like to think is progress.

"What?" I stare at his outstretched hands and make no move to get up.

"You say you have no rhythm? I'll teach you."

"You can dance now, too?" I raise my eyebrows up at him.

"I am actually an incredible dancer," He smiles cockily.

I roll my eyes. "No thank you."

"I wasn't asking," Paul smiles wider.

"Oh yeah," I challenge. "And what are you going to do if I refuse? Sticky glue my hands to you?"

"Oh," Paul's eyes widen as his interest is obviously peaked. "No, but I have to say I really like that idea. I may have to take you up on that offer."

"It wasn't an offer," I fight a smile.

"Come here then or I'm going to take it as one." He presses his hands closer to me and I debate with myself. I really, really shouldn't. The last thing I need to do tonight is ruin the first friendly encounter of the night by causing another emotional breakdown that will probably ensue after dancing. Even at the thought I find myself in shock that I am even debating it.

I look up at him and see his eyes soften just a little bit.

Screw it.

I slowly place my hands into his palms and he effortlessly pulls me into a standing. Suddenly all too close to him, I look up at him hesitantly only to see him smile down at me. He slips his hand around my waist and my breath catches in my throat, although I try my best to hide it. He holds his other hand up, waiting for me to slip my hand in his as I stare at his tan skin with nervousness. I bite the corner of my lip and try to keep my hand from shaking. I shouldn't do this; so of course I do.

Paul's skin is hot and hot and oh, so hot and his hand is soft too. I wrap my fingers around his and he squeezes my hand loosely within his own. I gulp and try not to pass out.

"It's all in the hips," He tells me, and then he slides his hand from my back to my side and latches onto my hipbone. I actually do gasp, which is probably why he loosens his hold just a little bit at he begins moving us around.

Although I hate to admit it, Paul is actually a pretty talented dancer. He moves effortlessly in a way that actually annoys me because it makes me wonder about all the other girls that he has danced with before.

"You're a good dancer," He tells me with a small smile.

I chuckle. "And you're a liar."

"I am not," Paul laughs. "You're dancing!"

"I am _not_ dancing," I giggle. " _You_ are dancing; I am being led."

"I'm going to have to disagree with you on that one," He widens his eyes at me and then looks down towards my swaying body. It brings a blush to my cheeks that I desperately try to hide.

I pull away and Paul immediately grips me tighter, lines forming on his forehead as he looks at me in confusion. I can't help but smile. "I'm just turning some music on, Paul."

He lets me go easily.

I reach for my iPhone and then have to shift through a pop radio station to a country and finally resting on a station that seems to play only piano. I smile shyly at him as I walk back towards him; thankfully, Paul is anything but shy.

He pulls me towards him instantly, not even having to take a second to think about it, and then our hands glide together, our fingers fitting together effortlessly like connecting puzzle pieces. Only, Paul pulled me much closer this time.

I can't see his face anymore; in fact, all that I can make out is his broad chest and that damn necklace. It takes me a few seconds of contemplating, and of course in the end, once I have decided not to, that is exactly when I do.

I cautiously rest my cheek against the side of his chest, and when he doesn't freak out or throw me over his shoulder (both equally as terrifying), I finally let myself relax. I let myself fall into him a little bit and actually sigh in contentment as I feel him wrap his arm tighter around my body to hold me to him. I need a word for this feeling, something like "Pafety- the safety that Paul's body emanates."

"Where'd you get your necklace?" My question surprises me, for I hadn't meant to ask it out loud. In fact, I hadn't even thought about it; it kind of just slipped between my lips, which is totally unlike me.

"It was my grandfathers," He tells me softly, and dear God in heaven I seriously almost pass out. I thought watching Paul's chest vibrate as he talked was one thing, but actually feeling it is like an out of body experience. I press my face closer to his chest without first consulting with my brain and Paul's grip tightens around me.

"Are you close with your grandfather?" I ask.

"I was," Paul sighs. "He passed away a few years ago."

I feel terrible. I hate to admit it, but a small part of me was hoping that he would say he wasn't, if only to feel less terrible about my family situation. The thought that Paul could have a great relationship with his mom and grandfather makes me feel entirely inadequate, so when he tells me that his grandfather passed away, I feel like an even bigger douche than I already am.

"I'm sorry," I tell him genuinely, and I truly am sorry for being so awful to him most of the time.

"Please don't be sorry," Paul breathes into my hair. I shudder. "I don't like when you're sad."

"I'm not sad," I immediately answer on instinct.

Paul doesn't respond.

"I'm not sad right now," I clarify in a moment of actual honesty. Before I can stop myself, I push away from him, far enough so that I can see his face but close enough so that I can think about doing something else too.

Paul looks down at me immediately, and I stare at him a moment, connecting my eyes with a set of brown ones that for some reason look a little bit different than everyone else's.

I lean my face up and I don't know what I am expecting exactly, but for him to push me away is not it. He holds me back by my shoulders and my eyes widen in shock.

"Oh," I murmur, and then I feel heat ride to my cheeks. I immediately go to take a step back, but once I do Paul takes an equal step closer.

"I'm not rejecting you, you crazy girl." Paul smiles and I quite honestly have no idea what could possibly be funny about this situation. "I'm just- Scar, I'm not going to kiss you again unless you can promise me that you're not going to do the same thing you've been doing. If you're not ready than that's fine."

My eyes bulge. "Ready for what?" I truly begin to panic.

"For… this," Paul shrugs.

This?

There's a this?

"I don't understand what you're talking about," I whisper.

"Look," Paul lets out a frustrated groan and then runs some of his fingers through his hair. "Don't get me wrong I really want to kiss you, I mean, look at you. All I'm saying is that I'm not going to unless you're going to stop ignoring me, and if you plan on still ignoring me than that's fine, but I'm not going to kiss you. Does that make sense?"

My heartbeat is like a drum in my ears. This is exactly what I had wanted to hear from him, only I hate it. I absolutely, completely, entirely despise the idea and want to shove my hand overtop of his mouth and beg him to never say it again.

"I promise."

I promise? What! What the hell is wrong with you Scarlett?

He looks at me quizzically and then holds up one hand, his pinkie sticking straight up in the air. "Are you sure?"

I stare at his adorable damn pinkie and that look of hope on his stupidly perfect face and lose myself. He has won again.

I smile, unable to help myself, and then latch my pinkie around his and shake it gently.

And that is all Paul needs.

He pulls my pinkie towards him and then presses his mouth to my own. I smile into the kiss, and then quickly I'm not smiling anymore. Paul detangles his finger from mine and then engulfs me in his arms.

I fall into his embrace and let his strength be the force holding me up, and not my own feet anymore.

God, I just love Paul's lips.

I love the way he smells and how he kisses me and what he does with his hands when he kisses me.

He is incredible. So, entirely incredible. So incredible it actually scares the hell out of me.

Paul latches his fingers into my hair and I actually sigh into his mouth- how embarrassing! I feel his perfect, delicious lips pull up into a small smile and try to ignore it as I press closer to him for more.

Paul slides his hand down my back and begins rubbing it, and that is it. I slide my hands from his neck down to his stomach and then find myself pushing up the bottom of his shirt.

Paul's lips stop moving and he reaches for my hands. "Scarlett," Paul smiles as he pulls his face away from me. He holds my hands between his own and then looks reassuringly at me as he shakes his head.

Oh dear Lord.

My eyes widen so large I wonder if I look like some type of animal as my face heats to a thousand degrees. Did I really just try to take his shirt off?

Paul laughs and I look at him with confusion. He squeezes my cheeks with his fingers and then kisses me softly. "You're so cute."

Now I actually frown.

Paul appears perplexed for a moment. "Do you not want to be cute?"

"Well," I bite the corner of my lip. "Not while I'm kissing you," I mumble.

He rolls his eyes. "Scarlett, you're naturally sexy- I didn't think I had to tell you _that_."

I nearly faint. "I-I d-didn't mean t-that!" I stammer.

"Sure you didn't," Paul chuckles.

"We should probably go downstairs." I suddenly realize what I am doing and take a large step away from him. Paul stares at me blinking for a few seconds before he nods his head.

"Alright," He clears his throat. "Just don't forget about that promise."

I hold back a smile. "Wouldn't dream of it."

When we descend the stairs it would be a lie to say that not everyone in the room turned to stare at us. Thankfully, though, no one makes any mention as to what we were doing up in Paul's room for a half hour with the door closed. I feel myself beginning to blush and bite the corner of my lip, begging myself to hold it back.

"You up for a game?" Paul asks me, holding a pool stick out.

"Oh," I immediately perk up. "Ugh, maybe in a little."

"Oh come on," Paul smiles reassuringly. "I'll teach you, it's not too hard."

I frown at this. I actually do know how to play pool; in fact, I know how to play very well. Is the only reason that he thought I couldn't because I am a girl?

"That's not the problem," I speak slowly.

"I'll even let you win," He nudges my shoulder.

That's it.

I force a fake smile onto my face and then take the pool stick. "I hit the white one, right?" I ask, plastering a fake, dumb-blonde expression onto my face and putting my pointer finger to my chin as I look at the pool table in mock confusion.

"Yeah," Paul says, "I'll break first. That's where I hit the triangle and mix the clump."

"Oh! I always wondered what that meant!"

Paul smiles and I wait until he passes to roll his eyes.

"Wait," I say right before he is about to break. He pulls an eye up to look at me. "Shouldn't we play for something?"

"What do you mean?" Paul seems genuinely confused.

"Like, if I win, shouldn't I get something?"

Paul's eyes widen. "What do you want, exactly?"

I nearly drop to the floor in embarrassment as the room full of guys turn to stare at me. "I was t-thinking like twenty bucks or something," I stammer.

"Oh," Paul clears his throat. "That's okay Scar, maybe next time."

I nearly lunge at this guy.

"Oh come on Paul," I hate myself for how basic I am acting right now, but I know I need to use it for better shock factor. "I really, really want to! It would be so fun!"

Paul seems a little confused by my random excitement, but I am guessing that is why he finally caves. "Alright, twenty bucks; but you can have two re-shots."

"Are re-shots allowed?" I have to stop myself from narrowing my eyes.

"They are right now." A grin engulfs his face as he breaks, and he makes one in. "Alright," Paul explains. I have to hold myself back from rolling me eyes. "Since I hit one in I'm stripes now, which means that you're solids." He aims and hits another stripe in, and then on the third, he somehow "misses" a perfectly angled shot and then hands me the pool stick.

Paul reaches for my hips- whew that brings back memories- to show me how to shoot, but I pull away. "You know what I think I've got it," I nod my head and offer him an innocent smile.

"Are you sure?" He hesitates on his heel.

"Yeah!" I pop up. "I mean I watched you doing it. It can't be that hard to figure out!"

Paul tries not to laugh. "Alright, give it a shot."

I know exactly which ball I want to hit. I know that if I hit the top right corner it will veer off to the left and hit one of my other balls right into the far left socket, but I obviously can't tell him that. I pretend to ponder which ball to hit for a while before lining up. I fumble with the stick and then once I am in position look up at him with an innocent smile. "Is this right?" I ask him shyly.

"Perfect," He leans over the pool table.

I smile.

And then I make a perfect shot.

Paul's mouth drops open and his expression falters.

I hold in a laugh as I move to the next ball and hit that one in too, quickly and efficiently. I slide past him, offer him a brief "excuse me" and then continue on to make three more shots in a row before it is Paul's turn again. I walk back up to him and then hold out the pool stick like nothing out of the ordinary just occurred.

I notice Embry chuckling in the corner and then see Jared hiding his face in Kim's shoulder as he laughs as well.

I nearly laugh myself.

"Did you just hustle me?" Paul asks finally, and although I expected the surprise, the one emotion I did not expect to hear is admiration. I look up at him in confusion to see him smiling the largest grin I have ever seen encompassing his face.

I don't really know how to answer him when he is looking at me like that, so I just nod.

"Alright then," Paul sighs, takes the pool stick, looks at me, shakes his head and then laughs. "You're on little girl."

I bite the corner of my lip. This is about to be fun.

After two games, I am $40 richer, and Paul is so annoyed I wonder if he even likes me anymore. The way he is acting is kind of to be expected from the type of guy that Paul is with other people, which is weird to say but true. I can tell that it practically killed him to be beat by a girl, but that only makes it that much better of a victory.

The rest of the night I spend mostly hanging out with Jacob and Nessie, and then talking to Jacob's other friends every now and then. I actually really like Kim, and Jared too, and of course Embry is the best. The funny thing is that Paul and I don't really hangout again, aside from casual chatter in a group, although the majority of my night is spent stealing sideways glances in his direction and then quickly looking away when he catches me.

I think I have officially lost all sense of self-preservation.

When it comes time for Nessie to get home for her curfew, I don't really know whether to say bye to Paul or just kind of leave. The awkwardness is kind of killing me.

"Hey Paul, we're heading out," Jacob announces our exit and Paul's eyes immediately shoot to me.

"Okay," He says, still looking at me. "Are you leaving too?"

My eyes widen. Speak, Scarlett. Speak!

"Ugh," I stumble with my words for a second but somehow manage to actually speak. "Y-yeah."

He nods and then I don't really know what to do so I squeak out a bye and then head off towards the door. Right before I am about to reach it, however, Paul reaches overtop of me, causing all the muscles in my body to tense for a second before I realize it is just him, and holds the door open for me.

"Uh, thanks," I smile shyly at him.

"Of course," He smiles. "I had a great time with you tonight."

I can't help it; I look nervously inside the house to catch about every single person's eyeballs staring out at us.

Paul seems to notice how uncomfortable I am and then closes the door. Jacob and Nessie don't even wait for me to follow as they head out towards the car, Jacob's arm strewn casually overtop of her shoulders.

I am left standing alone with Paul Lahote.

It is weird to think about how only a few hours ago I had been kissing him, because here I am now feeling entirely uncomfortable and like I have no idea what to say; what is even weirder is that I want to do it again.

"Did you have fun?" He asks.

I nod my head and a smile creeps onto my lips without my permission. I think about lying but really what's the use. "Yes."

"Good," Paul smiles a wide smile and I suddenly don't just want to kiss him, I need to.

I lean forward and he pulls back. I am about to go sprinting towards Jacob's car at the speed of light before I notice him holding both of his pinkie's out in front of his chest.

I roll my eyes and latch my fingers around his own, and then use them to pull me forward and kiss him.

This kiss is not as long winded as the one in his bedroom- dear God, I can't believe I made out with him in his bedroom- It is sweet and quick but entirely what I need, the only problem is that I need more.

I force myself to pull away and then smile breathlessly as I start walking towards the car.

"You know I could drive you home later if you wanted to stay."

I can't help but smile. "I think I should go."

"But why?" Paul questions, taking a step closer to me.

I giggle. "Because a lot could go wrong in a couple of hours."

"Oh yeah," A devilish smile encompasses Paul's face and I roll my eyes. "Like what?"

"Like," I hold out the word. "Me beating you in another game of pool."

I giggle and turn on my heel, casually running towards Jacob's awaiting truck that is idling at the bottom of the driveway.

I don't say bye, but for some reason, this time I don't feel like I have to.

* * *

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	8. Panic

I'M BACK! So sorry for not updating in so long:( School is killing me slowly. Please, please, please don't be too mad! I hope you love this chapter!

PS: thanks so much for all the reviews and follows! You guys are truly the best!

* * *

Paul's POV

It's been a busy day at the shop. Although usually I would much prefer a slower shift; aka, more time to flirt with little Mackenzie Shaw that Jake just hired as a favor to her dad, though he did make me swear that I wouldn't touch her, this jam packed day was much appreciated.

The more time I spent throwing myself into my work, the less I have to think about Scarlett. The only problem with that, though, is that I always think about her; everything I do, everyone I see, every time someone laughs, I think about her, or compare her, or imagine her doing the same exact thing.

I can't stop thinking about that kiss, well, there were two kisses: the first in my room, and the second on my porch. The room kiss is one in particular that just can't seem to slip my memory, not that I want it to. She had literally tried to take my shirt off. I will never ever never ever never- God she kills me- forget about how it felt when her smooth, oh fuck so smooth and so soft hands skimmed against my abs. I want her so badly it physically hurts me, which is why I have no idea in hell why I stopped her.

All I think about is having sex with her. Sure, I love just talking to her, but all I think about is _constantly_ having sex with her. The sounds she would make, the way her body would roll around, the look of pleasure that would fill that perfect face. Would she say my name? Would she be loud or timid? Ugh! The thoughts are driving me insane.

Oddly enough though, I know that I would stop her again if she tried. See, I think the whole imprint thing that I never understood before is that it isn't like all my needs are gone, it's just that her's trump mine. Although I may be so ready to have sex with her that I am about to spontaneously combust, I know that she isn't.

I throw the wrench I am holding angrily to the side and then wipe my greasy hands off before I reach into my pocket for my cell-phone. It is 5:50, ten minutes before I get off, perfect.

Scarlett and I have been texting on and off for the last three days, now Wednesday, I can't wait any longer to see her, even though I know I should probably just force myself to wait for the weekend. Although her texts were short, they were still responses. She never gave too much or asked too many questions but sometimes she flirted, and other times I felt like I was bothering her; basically nothing new in the whole Scarlett storyline of utter confusion.

I gulp after the first two rings.

On the third I have convinced myself that she isn't going to answer.

On the fourth I am smacking myself in the back of the head for not just waiting like a normal pers-

"Hello?"

My eyes widen. My mouth opens but no words come out.

Fuck. In all the time I spent wishing that she would answer, I never thought about what I would say if she actually did.

"Ugh, hey!" I recover by the "hey." "What are you doing?"

It takes her a beat before she responds. "I'm just working on some homework," She answers back softly, almost shyly.

"Are you hungry?" I sigh and lean back against the counter. I comfortably slip into the flirtation that I know she isn't as immune to as she wishes she was.

Scarlett chuckles. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" I tease. "Come on. Even a genius needs brain food."

I can practically see her eye-roll flash right before my eyes. "And how would you know, hm?"

I smile automatically. I love when she sasses me. "So, dinner?"

There is a pause on the line. "I- I don't know," She responds slowly, her voice sounding more distant than before.

My jaw tenses. I just want to demand to know why she gets like this, yell and tell her that she's being ridiculous because she obviously feels something for me and all she does is send mixed messages of fucked up confusion where she acts friendly one minute and like we are strangers the next, but I swallow it down. I close my eyes and take a steadying breath.

"Why?" I finally ask.

"I have a test tomorrow," She answers back timidly.

"Do you really have a test, or are you lying to me Scarlett?"

Now she giggles, and the anger that I had felt for just a brief moment practically melts off of me in a puddle on the floor as I can't hold back a smile from engulfing my face. I have never in my life heard anything like Scarlett's laugh. "If you think you could help me with organic chemistry, than feel free to come over."

"Really?" I ask before I can try to hide my disbelief.

"Do you know anything about organic chem?" She questions slowly.

"Oh yeah," I lie easily. "And I am an excellent teacher.

"Why do I not believe you?" She giggles into the phone.

I smile widely. "You will, just give it some time."

"Alright great, well I'm going," She laughs and then I hear the dial tone.

I don't waste even a second. I pull up the internet on my phone and then sit back once I find the article that I am looking for. _Organic Chemistry for Dummies_ , flashes across the top of my screen. This should be fun.

* * *

I knock twice before she answers, but when she does, I nearly have a heart attack right then and there.

Scarlett is wearing jean shorts; let me clarify: jean shorts that show off her perfect, _perfect,_ smooth and shining and tall, God damn so tall legs. She has a tank top on, but not one of the ones that I am used to girls wearing around me. It is loose and light pink and doesn't show off any of the cleavage that I know she has. Her hair is long and wavy, though the ends do look a little more curled than usual. She is tan. God she is so fucking tan. Smooth and tan and- she is smiling at me. Her lips are pulled up into a small, timid grin as she holds the door open.

"Hi," She says, her perfectly fluent and musical voice carrying to me like a symphony for my ears.

"Hey Scar," I say knowingly, and then watch as she bites her lip and holds back a huge grin. I don't need her to tell me for me to know how much she loves her nickname.

"What is all this?" She asks, though it takes me a moment to follow her eyes, for I am too busy staring at her face.

"This?" I ask after I missed a beat. I hold up the two grocery bags full of off and she nods her perfect little head. "Oh, supplies."

"Supplies?" She repeats, and I would be lying if I said she didn't genuinely look worried.

"Yeah," I say with a smile as I step inside of her house. Scarlett steps back, as if on instinct, and does that thing that she does a lot more than I think she realizes; she tucks her arms around herself and kind of holds herself together in a way, almost like a personal hug. I blink a few times to stop myself from examining her for too long. "You said you couldn't go to dinner, so I brought dinner to you."

Scarlett looks uneasily from my face to the bags a few times.

"Scar?" I begin, making my voice gentler than usual. She brings her big, blue eyes back up to meet mine and I have to flex my muscles to keep from running at her and kissing all of that nervousness or fear or tepidness or whatever the hell it is right off of her face. "It's just food."

Scarlett blinks, but then she smiles. "Alright. Thanks."

She turns towards away from me and I follow her inside. I place the bags on the counter as she awkwardly leans against the island. I just want to reach out and hug her; I don't know why it is still awkward. I thought that after Saturday she wouldn't be embarrassed around me anymore, but I realize now that I was entirely wrong. Scarlett is like a shy kitten without a memory; she is slow to warm up to you, but once she does it is like the entire damn world is illuminated in her perfect bubble of sunshine; only the next time you have to do the same thing all over again.

"So, I see you have added some personal touches to the kitchen," I nod in the direction of a huge red stain covering the chair cushion on the island in an effort to break the ice.

The tension in her shoulders loosen as she laughs; it is honestly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. "Yeah, I tripped over the chair and spilled my drink all over it." She twirls the bottom of her curl around her finger. I gulp.

"You drink?" I can't help but ask.

Scarlett's eyebrows raise. "Juice."

"Oh."

I don't really know what to say now. I search for something else to fill the silence and once I realize I should pull out the chocolate I bought for her, I throw my hand up quickly, only, I forget that anything quick or fast or hard scares her.

Scarlett winces, and I quickly pull my hand back.

In the midst of my panicked, quick movement, I somehow manage to knock off of a vase off of the counter. I cringe at the loud banging and hear Scarlett gasp as she jumps up. Her entire body tenses as she presses herself tightly against the cabinets. Her huge, bright blue eyes are wide with fear for just a second before she realizes that it was only a vase.

Her eyes widen again as she takes in the scattered glass all around my feet, and I finally look down to see none other than the very flowers that I got for her about a week and a half ago littering the floor.

"Paul?"

"U-ugh, sorry."

Scarlett lifts her eyebrows and then nods her head as if she is expecting me to elaborate or something.

I blink a few times. "Was that an expensive vase?"

I have to stop my hand from slapping me in the face.

Scarlett's mouth parts just slightly, and God I just want to touch them, to _feel_ them, to- nope, stop it Paul; getting off track again.

"I- I don't think so," She stammers, and then looks from me to the floor and then back at me again. "I mean, I don't know. Is glass expensive?"

I peer down at the shattered glass and narrow my eyes. "No idea. I do know that once when I broke one of my mom's vases playing football as a kid she chased me around with one of those pie rollers once though."

Scarlett bursts into laughter, and I smile at the mere sight. God, she is so damn beautiful. Even now, her hair in a messy ponytail and a black-tee shirt and athletic shorts on that perfect, toned, tight little body is making my head spin.

She walks towards me and then squats down as she begins picking up the small pieces of glass with her fingers, and then stacking them in the palm of her bare hand. She peers up at me with a mischievous smile, as if she knows she is teasing me, and I fight the urge to pick her up and have my way with her.

"Don't do that," I ignore her and lean down so that I can grab her hand. I reach for her wrist and then turn it over so that all the glass falls into my palm and then pull her up.

"What are you doing?" She asks me slowly.

"Don't clean that up, I'll do it. You're going to hurt yourself."

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "I know how to pick up broken glass Paul."

She is down continuing with her prior activity before I know it. God this girl is stubborn.

I pull the trash can over, throw the glass I am currently holding in it, and then squat down to help her.

Scarlett raises her eyebrows at me as I see she has collected a pretty impressive collection in a very short amount of time. "You don't have to," She begins, "I've got it."

"Well considering I was the one to break it," I say with a shrug. I reach for her wrist again and tilt it over so that all of that glass is now in my hand and not touching her perfect, tan, _delicate_ skin, and giving me a heart attack.

"Oh yes, back to that; were you trying to steal the flowers back or something?"

"Something like that," I mumble as I dispose of that pile of glass and then repeat my earlier process. "I really don't like you doing this."

Scarlett blinks at me before deliberately, and I would dare say purposefully, picking an extremely large chunk up and setting it in her hand. "I don't really care what you like me doing."

Okay. I'm horny.

I clear my throat and try to get ahold of myself. "You're going to cut yourself."

"So are you," She stares at the glass I am currently squeezing tightly between my fingers to try to remain in control of my very turned on body. It's not just the obvious disobedience that I like so much; it's the way her long, tan legs are shining even when there isn't any sun outside. It's her bare face that is bright and beautiful and perfect, and then there's of course her blonde hair.

I release my grip and hide my hand as it heals, then wipe the blood off on the back of my shirt.

"Just sit down; I'll do it." I grumble and dump the glass from her hand into mine.

"Paul," She holds out the word, almost like a moan, and I seriously, _seriously_ can't stop replaying it over and over and over in my mind but imagining her saying it in bed with me. "I'm fine."

She drops a piece from her hand and for just a second I think that she may have cut herself, and I nearly lunge at her. "Would you stop?"

"You're driving me crazy!"

"I can't drive you what you already are!" I finally explode. "Just stop picking up tiny pieces of glass with your bare hands!"

"Fine!" She yells back, shocking me just slightly by her raising her voice. She throws her hands out, letting the glass fall back to the floor, and the exact thing that I was trying to avoid happens right before my eyes.

A piece must have fallen beneath her, because when she stands she presses one of her knees into the ground, she gasps and winces back.

I reach for her immediately and wrap my hand around her upper arm, pulling both of us into a standing. "Are you okay?" I ask her sternly. I swear this must be the imprint thing; I don't think I've ever panicked about someone getting hurt so much in my entire life. I feel like I am about to have a heart attack.

"I'm fine," She squeaks, and the tone of her voice makes me look down at her in confusion, which is when I notice her wide eyes and stiff demeanor. The wheels in my head work for a second before I realize that I am still grasping her arm. I loosen my grip and she immediately relaxes. Scarlett gulps and I examine her for a moment. She twiddles with her fingers and looks towards the floor but erases her panic in a mere number of seconds. She is so calculated, so _practiced_ , it only makes me more interested in who she is.

"Are you hurt?" I sigh and take a step back so that she doesn't freak out again. It is the worst thing in the world when all I want to do is touch Scarlett, yet that is the exact thing that sends her running in the other direction.

"W-what?" She looks at me like I am from another planet.

"Your leg."

"Oh." Scarlett peers down at her leg and then shoots it out to get a better look. A thick line of red has run down the length of her leg, the blood condensing in a small puddle next to her foot.

My face undoubtedly relays the exact feeling of panic that I feel internally, but when Scarlett looks back up, she has almost a look of disinterest covering her face.

"It's fine," She sighs and then pops her hip and then crosses her arms as to complain to me some more, no more thought to her thick cut or the weirdly excessive amount of blood other than one quick look.

I reach for her knowing that she probably will panic, but not even caring. I loop my arm around her back and then put my other arm under her knees and pull her up into my arms.

Scarlett gasps and I notice her body stiffen. "What are you doing?" She demands, struggling against me. "Put me down!"

"Relax," I tell her sternly, although she doesn't hear or more likely just doesn't listen. I set her on the kitchen counter and she shoves my hands away and then moves to pop down.

"Would you stop it?" I growl.

"Just leave me alone!" She demands. I put my hand on her shoulder to keep her sitting but that doesn't last long before I practically have to drag her back onto the counter again.

"Paul!" She begins, and I have no doubt that whatever she is about to say will equally piss me off and turn me on at the exact same time, but that still doesn't stop me from doing the only thing that I think could either calm her down or make her punch me in the face.

I press my hand to the back of her head and push it forward. At first I wonder if she is going to pull away, but then after a moment her lips go from tense and reserved to soft and giving. She melts into me, like she had in my room the other night, and I smile to myself as I stroke my hand along her soft, soft hair.

Scarlett's timid, timid fingers come up to my chest and I feel her gently rest her hands against my collar. It reminds me of her trying to take my shirt off, and for the hundredth time, I wonder again why the hell I stopped her. I deepen the kiss.

I run my hands down her smooth arms and physically feel her shiver underneath me. I love this; I love everything about her. I love that I can make her react so intensely with just the most trivial of touches. And even more, I just love kissing her, which is something that I honestly can't say about any other girl I have ever been with.

Kissing other girls was just like what I knew I had to get done before the fun stuff could start. I would just get through it as quickly as possible because that wasn't what I was really interested in, and I honestly couldn't feel any differently about Scarlett.

I just want her to be comfortable. I want her to feel safe and not be afraid of me and be the one wanting to take it further. I push down the animalistic, literally, desire in me to rip her clothes off and focus on being gentle, which really doesn't come easily to me, especially because Scarlett is so fragile.

Even just touching her now, I worry about pressing my hands around her too firmly, kissing her too hard, hurting her in any way. Hell, the other night in my room I reached for her wrist and nearly broke her arm, when all I wanted to do was keep her there.

I focus on keeping my fingers light as I run them from her wrists, up her arms, and then back up to her face.

Scarlett sighs into my mouth and all I want to do is slip my tongue into her mouth and taste her, but I refrain. I pull away and hold my mouth in front of hers for a moment. Scarlett reaches forward, but I pull back just slightly. Her mouth opens in shock and her eyes flicker to mine. She looks so adorably offended.

I laugh and gently cup her face between my hands. "Are you going to behave now?"

Scarlett's eyes twitch up for just a second in a moment of intrigue, and I swear I nearly press my mouth back to hears again; I hadn't meant for that to sound so sexual. Ugh, she just has the best lips.

They're full and large but natural and beautiful. I pull away again to see her eyes still closed, and for a second I just stare at her, and put that sight to memory, because I very rarely see Scarlett feeling, and not thinking.

With a sigh, Scarlett opens her eyes, shakes her head at me, and then rests her head against the cabinet behind her.

I smile, having gotten my way, and then reach for her leg. I gently slip my hand beneath her knee and pull it up to inspect it more, only to realize that it is still bleeding. I look from her and then back to her knee with surprise.

"Does this not hurt?" I ask her.

Scarlett shrugs and then swipes some of her amazingly blonde hair behind her shoulder. "Not really."

I widen my eyes at her. Jesus, this girl is tough. "Are you sure?"

Scarlett does the most dramatic eye roll I think I've ever seen; it is so adorable I nearly hug her. "Yes Paul, I'm sure. Sorry I'm not some insecure little Freshman who needs you to come to her rescue."

I giggle to myself. I use one hand to hold her knee up and the other to wet a towel and then press it to her wound. Because being gentle was never one of my strong suites, she gasps and then immediately places her hand on top of mine to stop me. I release the pressure but we both stay there for a second, neither of us making any inclination to move, which is fine by me. It is rare when Scarlett touches me, and not the other way around.

I have to clear my throat to continue. "Do you have a needle and some thread?"

Her eyes grow wide. "What?"

I smile reassuringly at her. "You probably need stitches."

She is still looking at me like I am certifiable. "And you think I would let you be the one to give me those?"

I stifle back a laugh; little does she know how many times I have stitched myself after a bad injury on the hunt, wanting to accelerate the already accelerated werewolf healing process.

Scarlett peers those huge blue eyes down towards her knee. God I just want to kiss her again. "Let me see."

I sigh. "Scarlett, I know what I'm talking about."

She levels her eyes with mine. "And so do I."

I begrudgingly pull the towel away so that she can inspect for herself. She looks at it with a surprisingly neutral expression for less than a second before rolling her eyes. "Just get some super glue."

I stumble with my words for a second. "Sticky glue?" I repeat.

Scarlett nods her head. "Yeah, I use it all the time."

My expression falters at this. "How often do you cut yourself deep enough to need sticky glue?"

Scarlett's cheeks blush in an instant. "Never mind."

I press my finger to her chin and try to gently, gently, as gently as I possibly can push it up. Her eyes are so blue and so wide that I actually laugh.

"What?" She scrunches her eyebrows together as a pout forms on her lips. I just can't help myself.

I kiss her again, softer this time, with a smile still playing on my lips, and when I pull away, she isn't frowning anymore.

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "Your face is just ridiculous sometimes." And by this, I mean ridiculous because it isn't humanly possible for a human to be as god damn cute as her.

"Oh," Her eyes widen. "Just what every girl wants to hear: My face is ridiculous."

"Can't I just stitch it for you Scar?"

"No," She answers immediately.

"Scared of needles?"

"No."

"Scarlett," I moan, and then take her face between my hands. "Stop it. Please."

"Stop what?" She narrows her eyes at me.

I pull my hands away and then use a clean towel to wipe off some blood that I accidentally got on her cheek. "Let me take care of you," I whisper to her.

Scarlett stares at me, her expression giving no indication of what the hell she is thinking. Then she sighs, and I smile at my own, small victory. "Fine."

"Thank you," I smile. "Where is it?"

"There's a sewing kit in the bathroom down the hall."

"Alright." I pat her thighs and then head off towards the bathroom. I look everywhere, to no avail.

"Hey Scar," I call out after a good five minutes of searching. "I couldn't find i-,"

Scarlett is walking around the kitchen, all the blood having been cleaned up and her leg spotless and shining again without a gushing wound and all the glass gone too. I blink a few times to make sure I am not seeing things.

"That's because I lied," She states bluntly. "I just put glue on it." She holds out her leg and then turns it to the side so that I can get a better view.

I shake my head at her. "You are impossible."

She seems to smile even wider at this.

"So," I clap my hands together, ready to move on from all the blood, "Are you hungry?"

She bites the corner of her lip and nods her head sheepishly. I can't help but smile at her.

"Great! Let's cook."

"Ugh." Her face drops from content to worried in under a millisecond. What now? "I-I can't cook," She finally admits, shrugging her shoulders at the end.

I nearly burst out into laughter at that being what worried her so much. I walk over to her and slowly wrap my arm around her back, watching her closely to make sure she doesn't flinch as I touch her. Scarlett peers towards the ground, slightly embarrassed by this, which amazes me; she is perfect, how could she ever think differently?

I pull her towards my chest and then feel her tense up, but then give into me. She tucks her hands underneath her body and rests her cheek against my chest. I wrap my arms around her small, perfect frame and kiss the side of her head; her shampoo smells like strawberries. "Lucky for you, I am a great teacher."

The sarcasm is palpable in her voice, even when muffled. "Why do I feel like you've told a lot of girls that exact same thing?"

* * *

Scarlett groans and mumbles something unintelligent to herself as I watch her become more and more frustrated. Although I doubt she noticed, I have been watching her for the last minute trying, unsuccessfully if I may add, to cut up the relatively small tomato that I had tasked her with chopping up for the chicken.

I stifle a laugh as the knife slips again.

"Alright," I finally cave, coming up behind her. "I can't let this continue any longer; you already bled out once on my watch."

She groans again. "This is so hard."

I smile to myself and then wrap my arms around her back. She gasps and the knife falls out of her hand onto the cutting board. I keep myself pressed tightly against her until her muscles lose their tension; God I really wish she didn't always do that.

When I feel like she has relaxed a good amount, I pick up the knife and set it gently back in her hand. I then place my hands on top of the back of hers and easily guide her into a perfect cut.

Scarlett shakes her head, sending a waft of strawberry right to me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "How do you do that?" She mumbles angrily.

I laugh and kiss her cheek. I know she is blushing without even looking at her. "You'll get better at it," I tell her reassuringly as I continue to help her chop. After the entire tomato is completed she sighs and turns around so that she is facing me. I am close to her, very close, and I can tell from the way that she bites the corner of her lip that she notices.

"I think maybe I need an easier task."

"Ugh," I let out a breath. "That was kind of what I was thinking when I gave you that to do."

She rolls her eyes. "You're making fun of me."

"No I'm not," I laugh and reach for both of her arms. "Baby girl I swear I'm not," I laugh again.

She rolls her eyes, though there is not denying the blush. "I need another task."

"Well," I try not to laugh. "Ugh, there isn't much you can do that doesn't involve cutting, using the stove or touching raw meet because you did nearly vomit at the sight of chicken so ugh,"

She shoves my shoulder and I laugh.

"I told you I don't cook," Scarlett crosses her arms.

"I'll tell you what," I rub my palms along her upper arms. "Why don't you bring that homework you were talking about over here and I'll cook for us."

She frowns. "But I wanna cook."

That was fucking adorable.

"We will," I smile and shake my head at her. Fuck she is perfection. "Another time. I just feel like we already tempted fate with that near death experience earlier so I would rather not test our luck."

She rolls her eyes, bright blue filling my entire view. "Fine, but I do think you are being slightly overdramatic," She says as she goes to the table and grabs her books.

"Overdramatic, huh?" I laugh as I watch her charmingly try to keep her books from falling out of her tiny arms. She somehow makes it to the island and then plops all of her stuff down. She climbs up into the chair and then picks her pen up, twiddling it in the air as she purses her lips.

"You know," She says with a sigh. "I don't necessarily know how to study for a test when I have absolutely no idea what it is on."

I laugh. "Well considering you are in organic chemistry, I don't think you really have anything to worry about."

She raises her eyebrows at me. "Aren't you the one who claimed to be an expert on this particular subject?"

I expertly cut up the rest of the vegetables and place them into the pot on the stove. I choose to ignore that particular question.

A moment of Scarlett focusing on her schoolwork and me focusing on my cooking happens before she gets up with a sigh and then walks right over to the stove. She stirs it around for a second before bringing the spoon to her lips. She tilts her head to the side and then squints her eyes in concentration.

"Needs salt."

She reaches for the salt but I leap to grab it out of her hand.

"Woah," I look at her like she is insane and then pull it out of her grasp. Thankfully she doesn't panic. "Don't touch my masterpiece."

"Your masterpiece," She giggles. "Is bland."

I shake my head. "That's because all the ingredients aren't in yet."

She purses her lips as she takes a second to form a response. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"My mom," I tell her casually. "She always used to like to cook, but she worked two jobs so I started cooking for us to make it easier on her."

My back is to her so I can't see her reaction to this. "You seem like you're really close to your mom," She states after a second.

"Well," I shrug. "I mean, yeah. Aren't you close to your mom?"

Scarlett doesn't respond, and when I turn she is staring at the pot, slowly stirring it with an unreadable expression on her face, her perfect lips set in a straight line, hiding words that I wish she would tell me, but I know she won't.

"Scarlett?" I ask quietly.

"I need to study you're distracting me," She speaks quickly, all the words running together like one extremely long word itself.

She drops the spoon and then takes a long, deep breath as she goes back to her schoolwork.

We spend the rest of the time in silence, me looking at her, her looking adorably desirable as she focuses on her homework. Every time she focuses, her forehead furrows just a little bit and her eyes squint in concentration; it drives me crazy. I spend so much time staring at her that I actually accidentally cut myself, but that is healed in a matter of seconds.

When dinner comes Scarlett gets the plates and silverware out and I make us both plates. She looks down at the food with a kind of awe that surprises me, but then shakes her head.

"You are not at all what I thought you were, Paul Lahote," She tells me with a sigh. I commit that particular statement to memory.

Dinner is spent in a sort of comfortable silence. Apart from a little bit of polite chatter, we don't really say much, and Scarlett is in that mood that she gets sometimes where she doesn't really speak, even when spoken to, but is not necessarily in a bad mood. She seems content, happy even, so it doesn't bother me that much that she is quiet.

After we finish she insists on doing the dishes, even though I tell her multiple times that she shouldn't. Eventually I just let her as I tidy up the rest and package it up so that she can eat it as leftovers. I place it in the top center of her refrigerator, and am quite shocked at what I see. Her fridge only has a few things; a little bit of milk, some fruit, two boxes of cereal and bread. It doesn't even look like anyone lives here.

"Thanks for dinner Paul," She says sweetly, pulling me from my over analyzing.

"Anytime," I close the fridge and rest against it casually.

"Ugh," She runs her fingers through her long blonde hair, immediately making me with I was doing that exact same thing. "The thought of reading one more word out of that chapter makes me want to self-harm." She bursts out into hysterical laughter and then shakes her head and drops it in her hands. "Me look at that book is like the equivalent of a blind person trying to read Shakespeare."

I laugh. "Why don't I read it to you?"

Scarlett picks her head up slowly. "Really?"

I shrug. "Sure."

"E-W-Ugh-Well, s-sure." She runs her fingers through her hair, though it is much more of a nervous movement now. I place my hands in my pockets as to not make her any more embarrassed than she already is. I walk over to the counter and grab her book then scratch the back of my neck; this may be trickier than I thought.

"W-want to go lie on the couch or something?" She asks, her usual stutter accompanied with her words, as it always is when she is nervous.

I smile reassuringly, trying to make her as comfortable as I can. "Sure."

She leads me into the living room and then takes her place on the couch. I sit a good distance away from her. I imagine what it would be like one day if she just immediately sat crawled into my lap; if she was that comfortable with me that she didn't even think about, she just rested her head on my chest and we watched TV, like a normal couple. I wonder what it would be like to even just be a couple.

Scarlett hugs a pillow to her chest and then blows some blonde hair out of her eyes in a ridiculously sexy sort of way.

"I make no promises about staying awake."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Oh if I'm staying awake for this hell you can be sure you are going to too."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine."

"Alright," I let out a long breath. Chapter six,"

* * *

I spend the next hour reading to Scarlett. Every few paragraphs she would stop me to clarify something, not that I had any clue, and I would just let her talk through the rationale in her own head until she finally got it and allotted for me to continue.

After the sixth paragraph in a row of her not responding I finally look up, only to see her small, tight little body rising and falling in a gentle rhythm.

Oh hell; sleeping Scarlett is my favorite kind of Scarlett.

Her eyelids flutter every so often and her back rises and falls with the same pace.

I reach out and my hand hovers in the air above her head for a moment before I let it drop into her hair. I gently run my fingertips along her hair that is softer than any other girls I have ever touched before, blonder too. It feels like silk, and looks like it to. I run over and over and over the same spot multiple times in a row, and then only stop when she mumbles something, rather adorably, in her sleep.

I should put her to bed.

I stand up and am as careful as I can be not to jostle her as I pull her into my arms. I cradle her to my chest and she mumbles again as she buries her face into my shirt. I hold her even tighter as I walk her up to her bedroom.

I pull back the sheets and rest her down in her bed. I know it is wrong, I really do, but I can't stop myself from lifting the back of her shirt to make sure those bruises are gone, and that there aren't any more. I actually breathe a breath of relief when her back is smooth and pristine, just like the rest of her.

I pull the covers up to her chin and then brush some hair out of her face. I am tempted to kiss her, but I am not sure where exactly we are at right now, and I imagine if she awoke to someone kissing her she would try to kill me. I turn to walk out… but then something touches my hand.

I turn to see Scarlett reaching for me, her sleepy eyes slightly open and her full, plush lips just barely parted. "Stay," She whispers, and I am so shocked that I actually forget how to speak. Is she really asking what I think she is?

"Please," She asks after a moment.

I lean towards her, stroking the side of her cheek and kissing her softly. "Scar, I don't think that's the best idea."

"You don't want to?" She murmurs.

I choke on something invisible. "That's definitely not the problem. I just- I don't want to do something that will make you feel uncomfrtoable."

"Paul," She sighs, her eyes closing again. "I'm asking you to sleepover, not to have an orgy."

"Oh." My eyes grow wide.

"Will you stay?" She asks, her voice back to sweet again.

I am dizzy.

"Okay."

I feel like I am having an out of body experience as I peel back the covers and climb into bed beside her. The sheets are already warm from her body heat, and I am immediately slapped in the face with the smell of her shampoo covering the pillow, which is fucking euphoria. Scarlett's body mends to mine quickly, so quickly I have to blink to convince myself that this is actually happening.

Scarlett turns so that she is on her stomach and I feel one of her bare legs bend at the knee and then rest on my thigh. Fuck I am hard. She rests her cheek against my shoulder and I wrap my arm around her back.

In less than five minutes she is asleep.

This is fucking bliss.

The hours pass so incredibly slow, making me wonder what I did in life to deserve the clock. I can't sleep, why would I? Especially when she is sleeping _on_ me like this.

It is about three am when something changes. Scarlett's peaceful, content body begins shaking; it isn't a lot at first, but enough for me to grow concerned. With the passing minutes the shakes become more aggressive, and then she starts talking, mumbling something, and then comes her head. She shifts it from side to side, her legs kicking out too. She gets louder, and that is when I know I need to do something.

I rub small circles into her upper back, and begin saying her name softly. "Scar," I murmur, kissing her forehead.

She lurches in her sleep.

Wow, that must be one nightmare.

"Scarlett," I speak, louder now. She shifts again. "Scarlett."

Scarlett gasps awake. She jumps up into a sitting and is breathing so hard and so fast that at first I am too scared to move.

"Scar?" I question.

She gasps again and lurches away from me. Once her eyes connect with mine I can see the absolute and complete panic engulfing them. "Scar," I repeat, softening my voice. "It's okay." I rub her arm but she pulls away. She makes a sound, almost like a whimper, and then runs her hand through her hair.

I can't stop staring, for her hand is shaking so intensely I don't know what to think.

"It's okay, baby girl." I reach for her face but she pulls away.

"Mm," She whimpers and drops her head into her hands.

"Scarlett, please relax. It was just a nightmare, sweetheart."

Her body suddenly and violently shakes. I grab her shoulders to steady her but she screams and I immediately pull away.

"G-get off!" She gasps, visibly shaking. "D-d-d-d-d-don't touch me," She says, and right before my eyes, I see the most beautiful girl I have ever met, have another panic attack.

Her breaths pick up, her eyes grow wide, her mouth hangs open and she struggles for breath as if all the air is being sucked out of the room.

"Scar."

Scarlett presses both hands to the sides of her head and starts rocking back and forth.

"Scarlett!" I grab her hands, not worried anymore, but instead, entirely afraid- no, terrified. I have never seen her like this before. "Stop."

"I-I-I-I-c-c-ca-a-a-a-an-t-t b-breathe," She holds her hands to her chest.

I shift so that I am directly in front of her. "Yes," I say, my voice stern and commanding. I grab the sides of her head and force her to look at me. "Yes you can. Just breathe."

She shakes her head and chokes on something imaginary.

"Scarlett," I say, shaking her slightly as I do so. "Breathe." I have no other options, so I just start doing what I wish she would. I breathe slowly, deeply in and then deeply out, showing her exactly what she needs to do.

Right when I am convinced that I am going to have to take her to the hospital, Scarlett's breathing begins to come just a little bit slower.

"Good," I tell her, relief evident in my voice. I stroke the sides of her face and try to smile. "Good girl." I continue to breathe along with her until her breath matches my own, and then I am left with a terrified little girl who looks nothing like the woman who makes me want to take all her clothes off.

"Scar," I speak sadly, running a finger down her cheek. "Baby what was that?"

She shakes her head, her bottom lip trembling as she looks anywhere but me.

"Scarlett," I demand; she flinches. I hate that I have to make my voice stern again, but I need to know what is going on.

She looks up at me and I try to look at her and tell her things that I just can't say. "What happened?"

"I don't know," She mumbles angrily, swiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"Scarlett I don't know what to do with that," I tell her. "That scared me."

"I'm sorry," She sobs, and immediately her chest begins heaving with loud, ugly sobs that make me want to die watching them come out of her. I don't even have to think; I pull her into my lap, cradling her in my arms as she sobs into my chest.

"Shhh," I tell her, kissing her hair that still smells amazing.

I have never felt like this before; it literally hurts me to see her like this. I want to die. I want to fix it. I never want her to feel one ounce of pain ever again.

After a few minutes her sobs die down, and a heavy stream of crying follows in its wake. She sniffles every few seconds, as if she is trying, unsuccessfully, to slow it down. I rub small circles into her back, beating myself up about something, _anything_ I can do to help her.

"Scarlett," I kiss the side of her head. "Talk to me."

She pushes me away from her and then audibly gulps as she swallows down the tears that have no intention of letting up. "I-I-I'm sorry," She gasps, wiping the water away beneath her eyes. "I'm sorry," She shakes her head frantically. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," I swipe my thumb along her cheek.

"I just- I," She is trying to control her breathing right before my very eyes, and to my amazement she actually is doing it. I feel like I am watching a movie, because this honestly can't be real life. She presses her hand to her heart and then with one long breath it is almost like it never happened. She closes her eyes and nods her head. With a deep breath she opens her eyes. Scarlett's bright blue ones are glassy, so sad looking that I swear they break my heart.

"I'm fine."

My mouth drops.

Her voice is even, emotionless… level. Her expression is that way too. If I hadn't known better, I honestly wouldn't have thought anything out of the ordinary would have just happened.

"Paul," She reaches out and touches my arm. "I'm fine. I'm sorry."

I let out a breath of disbelief. "Scar I," I shake my head, not able to finish my sentence.

"I'm fine," She repeats. I nearly believe her- nearly.

"Scarlett," I grab her face between my hands. "You are not fine. Sweetheart you just had a panic attack."

"I get them all the time," She brushes off my hands.

"All the time?" I stare at her in shock.

"Can we just," She shakes her head and then runs her hands through her now messy hair. "Can we go on a walk or something?"

"A walk?" I blurt. "Scarlett we can't go on a walk I want answers!"

"I can't give you any!" She screams.

I breathe. I breathe because at least she is fucking _reacting_. The practiced calm gave me goose bumps.

"Who should I call?" I try again.

"What? Paul, no. I'm fine."

"You are not fine, Scarlett."

"I'm fine," She sighs and shakes her head. "Can we just- can you- I think I just need to take a bath."

"A bath," My voice falters.

She nods her head. "Yes."

"I-Scarlett I," I shake my head in honest disbelief. "I-I can't just pretend like this never happened."

"That's fine." She sighs and throws the covers off of her and then heads towards the bathroom. I take extra time when I notice the way her arms cross as she holds herself together.

"Scarlett," I call after her.

"Paul." She turns, her arms still crossed and her eyes still calculatedly neutral. "I can't give you answers. I," She shakes her head over and over again. "I can't. I-I- I'm sorry I shouldn't have- you shouldn't have stayed I- I'm sorry."

She steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind her.

I claw the window open, and don't even make it to the ground before I shift.

* * *

Plllllease let me know what you all think! I am on spring break and have big plans for the next chapter, so please review and follow!


	9. A Day at the Beach

Hey guys! I read all your reviews and took what you said to heart. I decided that I really do need to post AT LEAST once a week, even if that means that the chapters will be shorter. I shall try my best and promise never to keep you waiting so long again! Enjoy

This chapter is split between Scarlett and Paul's because it just kinda worked out that way... Hope you like it!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"I really don't think he's that mad at you Scar," Jacob says reassuringly as he types something out on his phone. Ever since Paul penned the name "Scar" for me, Jacob and Renesmee have taken up using it as well.

I scoff. "You are wildly optimistic. Completely idiotic but optimistic nonetheless."

Jacob laughs but I ignore him as I continue to attempt suffocation by smashing my face into Nessie's pillow.

"Did you tell her he's been super upset all week?" Nessie asks from her vanity across the room.

"Upset because he hates me," I speak, my voice muffled into the pillow.

"He doesn't hate you," Jacob says again, his voice more condescending this time, almost as if he is talking to a small child.

"What did you do anyways to believe he hates you so much?" Nessie inquires for about the tenth time since it happened a few days ago.

"Nothing," I mumble angrily. I try to immediately push it out of my mind, but there is no stopping the vision of me having a panic attack out of my mind as Paul looks at me like I am mentally insane. I seriously have never been so embarrassed in my entire life.

"I feel like if anything he's worried," Jacob begins.

I jump up so that I am kneeling on the bed and hug a pillow protectively to my chest. "He told you!" I accuse loudly.

Jacob's eyes grow wide and he jumps back a little bit. "Ugh, no he didn't."

"Yes he did!"

"No he didn't," Jacob rolls his eyes. "It's just the vibe he's giving off."

I narrow my eyes at him and try to examine his face to see if he is lying to me or not. "And how would you know that he is worried unless he said something?"

Jacob sighs. "It's a pack thing."

Now I am the one to roll my eyes. "Do you know how gay it is that you all refer to yourselves as a pack?"

Jacob chokes on a laugh though Nessie giggles from a few feet away.

"Why don't you just call him?" She suggests.

"Oh, yeah, you're so right! Why don't I just call him?" I begin with a fake, sarcastic smile, "Why don't I just jump off the Empire State building while I'm at it too! Totally safe and not suicidal!"

"You're being dramatic," Jacob states.

"You don't understand," I moan as I drop my face into the pillow again.

"Look," Jacob pulls the pillow out from underneath of me and before I have a chance to object he tosses it across the room so that I can't get to it. "He's not mad at you Scar, and if he is he can get over it. Just call him. Invite him to hangout with us today or something; what I do know is that regardless of whatever you think he's feeling, he would fell a hell of a lot better if he heard from you."

I shift my weight uncomfortably. "But," I begin slowly, looking down towards the sheets as I feel a blush rise on my cheeks. "I'm just so embarrassed," I mumble angrily.

"Okay," Renesmee is suddenly on the bed. "Now I need to know. What the heck did you do?"

I roll my eyes and push myself into a standing. "Nothing."

"That's fine," She flips her perfectly curled hair behind her shoulder and then offers me one of her Renesmee award winning smiles. "But you either tell me or you're calling."

I debate this in my head for a moment and try to figure out the least terrible option. "Fine I'll tell you."

"I was kidding." Renesmee hands me my phone and my eyes widen when I see the front screen. Paul's name flashes across the top as I hear the faint sound of ringing.

"I don't want it!" I whisper scream as I throw it back to her.

"Take it!" She responds in a loud whisper of her own.

"No!" I toss it back.

"Scarlett!" She throws it to me.

"Hello?"

I completely freeze with the phone in my hand. That was definitely not Renesmee arguing with me.

I turn quickly, the adrenaline but also whatever is left of my self-preservation pushing me to try to somehow not look like an even bigger idiot in front of Paul.

"Ugh," I begin as I step onto Renesmee's balcony and shut the door behind me. "H-hi."

There is a brief pause, a second of silence, an hour worth of regrets. I shouldn't have called.

"Scarlett," Paul says. His voice is warm and inviting and so, so, so, so perfect; I just want to breathe it in. In a rush of a thousand feelings at once I finally let myself feel how badly I want to kiss him, be with him, _sleep_ with him (not that that's ever going to happen again). I missed him so much though I hid it as embarrassment.

"Hi," I breathe a long breath of relief.

"I'm so happy you called," He tells me, and I just have to bite my lip as I go to rest against the balcony.

"Really?" I can't help but ask.

"Of course," He replies definitively. "I missed you. And I feel terrible."

" _You_ have nothing to feel terrible about," I mumble underneath my breath. "I'm the one who flipped out."

I hear him sigh. "Scar," My head is spinning. "You don't have to be sorry about having a panic attack- the only thing that I don't understand is why you wouldn't just talk to me about it afterwards."

"It's," I stop myself before I can give another of my 100,000 bullshit excuses. They just don't work on Paul. "Hard," I finally finish.

There is another small pause before he speaks again. "Can I see you?"

My heart does an actual somersault in my chest. "I was actually calling to see if you wanted to hangout with Nessie and Jake and I today," I speak hopefully.

"That sounds nice Scar." I melt at the nickname. I think my best day ever would consist of Paul just looking at me and saying that name on repeat for 24 hours. "But I'm already going to the beach with Seth and Embry." My stomach drops. "You guys want to come?"

"Ugh," An immediately panic fills my veins like someone has just injected me with cyanide. "Ugh," I sigh and bite the corner of my lip. "Well," I begin uneasily.

Paul lets out a long, deep breath. "Scarlett," He begins, and I can just imagine him shaking his head. "I'm trying here."

I melt into a puddle on that damn balcony. "No, no!" I begin immediately, having the sudden, intense urge to reassure him. "It isn't that. I want to hangout with you, I promise. It's just," I sigh, here goes the last of my dignity. "I don't have a swimsuit."

It takes him a second to respond. "Like, it's dirty?"

I can't help but giggle. "No," I shake my head at how ridiculous I am about to sound. "I mean I don't own one."

Paul misses another beat before he is able to respond. "You don't own one?" He clarifies.

I sigh dreadfully. "Yes."

It's not that I am afraid of the water or anything ridiculous like that; it's just that there aren't many opportunities for wearing a swimsuit when I am spending every second of my life trying to cover up bruises underneath my clothes. I don't own a swimsuit because I've never been able to wear one.

Because of this delema, though, I have never actually had to show so much skin in front of members of the opposite sex, let alone Paul. It's not that I don't like my body; I mean, I've never really spent that much time looking at it because bruises aren't the most attractive things I care to look at, but it would be a lie if I said I wasn't a little insecure about it. I have big boobs, too big, in fact; when I was in middle school I used to get made fun of for having such big boobs. As I grew they naturally formed into a small D, and now I just want to make them go away.

"So," Paul begins, holding out the word as he does so. "Have you never been to the beach before?"  
I the corner of my lip, suddenly just as embarrassed as I was when I had that damn panic attack; I must appear so naïve to him. "Maybe?" I try to be discreet, though I fail miserably.

"I'll be over in ten."

The line goes dead.

And so does the rest of my pride.

I turn to go back into the house where Jacob and Nessie are most likely waiting anxiously. I am about to kill Renesmee, when something to my left catches my eye.

I stiffen and jump back. I swear for a second there I saw him. _Him._ The brown hair. The broad shoulders. The smile that is so dangerous because it seems so innocent, so harmless. I am shaking.

Mr. Cullen is staring at me, standing a little ways down on the long stretch of balcony that wraps around the entire house. I hadn't seen him there. How long had he been there?

He isn't him. He isn't him. He isn't him; I try to reassure myself.

I force a smile onto my face and offer him a shaky wave.

Mr. Cullen smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. He sighs and rests his hands in his pockets as he looks out at the trees.

"Hi Scarlett," He speaks softly, almost _timidly_. "So my daughter tells me you're dating Paul Lahote."

My eyes nearly bug out of my head. "Ugh, well," I stumble with my tongue for a second there. "Dating is a strong word."

Mr. Cullen chuckles. Then he nods his head and turns towards me, his expression more serious now. "Well, I just want you to know that if he hurts you, I'll just be waiting for the call."

My forehead crinkles. "The call?"

He nods his head. "I'll kill him," He states simply, as if he is merely talking about the weather.

My eyes widen, but then when Mr. Cullen smiles, a movement that is so ridiculously attractive for my best friend's father, I suddenly burst into laughter.

"Oh gosh," I giggle. "Well, I will definitely keep that in mind." I break to laugh again and then shake my head at the ground. "Thank you."

I turn to finally go inside when he stops me.

"Scarlett?"

I turn my head.

"You know there's nothing brave about trying to fix everything yourself."

My heart freezes. I swear it doesn't beat for an entire minute. The way he is talking, it's like he _knows._ I force the words that are threatening to erupt out of my throat down, because I have been there before. I have told people that said the same things, that I thought knew just like I now think Mr. Cullen does. I told them everything, to the very last painful detail, and what did that get me? A black eye and a week out of school for "mono."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I state on impulse. Everything feels numb.

Mr. Cullen nods his head.

And in a blink of an eye, he walks back inside.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

Scarlett opens up her front door a few seconds after the first knock, which is a grand contrast to the usual way she waits for the third and in the mean time has me convinced that she left the country, never to be seen or heard from again.

She is wearing shorts again, which I silently thank God for. I swear it is a sin for that girl to ever put pants on. She has white shorts and a light blue shirt with short sleeves that is high up her neck yet tight around her chest- I mean form fitting. I rip my gaze from her chest and clear my throat.

Before I remember to cater my movement, I thrust the shopping back out for her.

Scarlett gasps and jumps back. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are immediately flushed.

I pull my hand back on instinct.

I hate that.

I _hate_ that.

God I hate that so much I could write a damn book about how much I hate it.

"S-sorry," She says sheepishly. Scarlett embarrassingly places a piece of blonde hair behind her ear and then steps forward.

With a much slower hand this time, I hold the bag out to her. Scarlett's forehead wrinkles in this super adorable way that it always does when she is contemplating something in that perfect little head of hers. With a slow and steady hand she takes it from me.

"What's this?" She asks after a moment, and I can't help my gaze from falling right on her red lips.

"I got something for you," I smile and lean against the doorframe.

Scarlett's expression remains passive.

"Go put it on," I sigh and cross my arms. "I'll wait here."

"What do you mean you'll wai-,"

Seth beeps the car horn behind me and I close my eyes in a moment of searching for a patience that only Scarlett can bring out in me. I had told those idiots to act cool.

Scarlett tilts her head so that she can get a better view and then squints her eyes. "Is that Seth? And… Embry?"

I nod my head.

She looks from me back down to the bad, and I watch whilst fighting a laugh, as she realizes what exactly is in that bag. Her huge blue eyes grow even wider as her thick lips part.

She holds it out as if it is a ticking time bomb.

"No thank you," She states quickly.

I sigh. "Scarlett, come on."

"No."

I match my gaze with her impressively but also ridiculously stubborn one. "Put it on," I tell her. "We're going to the beach."

I watch in amusement as she opens her mouth to protest, but then closes it again. This happens a few more times before I finally just push the back towards her and step inside. I place my hands on her shoulders and literally push her into the bathroom.

There, I think smugly as I leave her standing in the bathroom with wide eyes and frozen feet, closing the door behind her so that she can change.

Now, I either just took matters into my own hands in order to get her to put a swimsuit on, or I accidentally gave her a heart attack and killed her.

I'll give her ten minutes until I'm going in there.

Lucky for me, or rather _unlucky_ for me, Scarlett exits the bathroom in the same clothes as before, though I can make out the thin, black bikini top poking out from underneath the collar of her shirt. I smile triumphantly as I hold the bathroom door open for her and she grabs her wallet and keys.

"Oh no I can't go I don't have a towel darn," She speaks with a monotone voice, all the words running together. "See ya later!"

I roll my eyes. "I brought you one."

Scarlett purses her lips. "Sunblock?"

"Yes Scarlett," I sigh.

I go to usher her out but she holds her adorable little finger up in the air in a moment of the sexiest sass I have ever seen. "I need at least thirty SPF and I am guessing you don't have that and if you don't than you can't possibly expect me to go to the beach and risk getting skin cancer with you and,"

"Oh shut up," I mumble underneath my breath and place my hand on her lower back, pushing her forward.

Scarlett sighs but then her feet begrudgingly begin moving.

Hell yes; I got her!

I hold the door open for her to enter the car and to my amazement she is actually friendly when she greets Seth and Embry. You know what, what I am beginning to notice about her is that she is easily practiced and polite around people she doesn't really know, it's just with the few people that she lets in, where the real cracks begin to show.

I study the way she jokes with Embry, shoves his shoulder, and laughs at his jokes. I nearly become jealous at the interaction, if it wasn't for the way the smile doesn't reach her eyes, at least not in the way that it does when I make her laugh.

She is a body full of little white lies, and no one can notice unless they are looking really, really closely.

But I notice, and now that I noticed, I just can't ever seem to stop.

Once we get to the beach we find where Jacob and Nessie are already waiting, and by waiting I mean making out, and all barf a little bit in our mouths as we set up camp next to them.

As promised, I pull out an orange towel of my moms and hand it to Scarlett. I notice her take in the color, her favorite color, and purse her lips in an effort not to smile. She tries extremely hard to make it seem like nothing I do affects her, but I know better.

I watch in amazement as she spreads the towel down on the ground like a fucking supermodel and then lays down on it with a sigh. She blows her long, dirty blonde hair out of her eyes and stares out at the water. It could just be my imagination, but I swear she jumps just a little bit when her fingers though the sand.

I kind of thought she was just trying to get out of coming today when she claimed she had never been to a beach before, but I am now realize that she wasn't exaggerating at all. It is as clear as day to anyone who really pays attention that this girl has never felt sand.

I lie down on my own blanket next to her and peer over at her perfection. "Is it what you thought it would be?" I ask her.

Scarlett turns her head towards me and I swear she shoots me dead right there. There is something about the sunlight shining against her perfectly light hair, and the way her eyes are sparkling underneath the glare. I have to force myself not to reach out and kiss her right then and there.

She nods her head, almost as if she is too embarrassed to speak, and I kind of get the hint that she doesn't want anyone else to know that this is her first time on the beach, so I let it drop… for now at least.

"Let's go in," Jake taps Nessie's thigh and she stands up quickly.

"Okay!" She squeals. "You coming?"

Scarlett's eyes go wide. "Oh no, I'm okay."

"Ah, come on," Embry shoves her shoulder and I growl underneath my breath. Embry pretty quickly pulls his hand back. "I-it'll be fun," He says, though there is no doubting the waver in his voice this time.

Much better.

Men should fear to touch her.

"Ugh, I don't know," She begins, eying the water suspiciously as she bites the corner of her lip.

"What, ya scared?" Jacob flashes his ridiculously stupid huge grin at her and I notice her interest immediately peaked. She narrows her eyes for a second and then stands up.

"Fine," She states, a sexy new kind of confidence in her voice that has me nearly kneeling at her feet. Scarlett is competitive. God does it turn me on.

"Yay!" Nessie squeals as she reaches for her hand. "Come on!"

Scarlett giggles as she quickly reaches down and effortlessly pulls her shirt overtop of her head, letting it fall into the sand. I can't stop staring at her back. Nessie is already pulling her forward as she reaches for her shorts, but it is still enough time for her to drop those too.

Oh fuck.

Oh dear God.

Hell, shit, oh Lord in heaven help me.

Kill me now.

Just fucking kill me.

Scarlett's _ass_.

The black bathing suit that I had picked for her, though the simplest one I could find, it clinging her to perfectly round- no, ridiculously round- no, perfectly curvy ass in all the right spaces. I have honest to God never seen a girl with a better ass than Scarlett. She has that kind of body that I have only ever seen photo shopped before: A round ass that looks like a God damn peach and then a waist that goes in in all the right places. I can't stop staring.

I think I nearly have a seizure as I watch her run off with Nessie towards the water.

Jacob smacks my shoulder. "Cool it man; you're drooling."

"Congrats," Embry plays along, and because I just really don't like his fucking tone, I tear my gaze away from her to see him staring off where I had just been, "That's primetime."

I lunge at him.

"Alright, settle down, settle down," Jacob grabs my shoulders and pulls me up as Seth jumps in front of Embry. "Come on. If you kill someone in front of her I doubt that increases your chances buddy."

I angrily pull myself out of his grasp but look towards the beach nonetheless. Scarlett is only waste deep, staring down into the water as Renesmee has already dived in.

I choose to let that one go, at least for the time being, because if there is anyone that is going to help my girl in the ocean, you better be damn sure it is going to be me.

Once we reach them, Embry and Seth practically pummel each other into the water as I stay back. I let Jake reach Nessie, wrapping her up and then spinning her around, accompanied with an eye-roll by me of course, before I go to stand next to her.

"What's up?" I ask her casually once I notice her staring quizzically down at the dark blue ocean.

"I don't like how I can't see what's under me," She replies slowly.

I can't help but laugh. "That's because you have trouble trusting people, even the ocean."

Scarlett tries so hard to laugh that it almost looks painful. I nudge her shoulder and finally she gives it up.

"Want to go any deeper?" I ask after a moment.

Scarlett's eyes bulge. "No way!"

"Come on," I clasp my hands to her smooth, smooth, _bare_ shoulders and push her forward.

"No, Paul!" She complains, trying to pull out of her grasp.

"Relax," I laugh into her shoulder, and there is no denying the slight giggle that slips between her lips. "The only way to conquier your fear of the ocean is just to dive right in."

She gasps. "What does that mean?"

I laugh and gasp both of my hands around her bare waste. Fuck she is skinny.

Scarlett gasps again and then turns towards me. I nearly drown. Her chest is… Fuck. Her… Oh god. Scarlett has- Scarlett has great boobs. Since I picked it out, I know that her swimsuit doesn't have any padding, which makes it even more ridiculous that they are as big and pushed together as they are. Now, I know it is a little cocky to call myself an expert and all, but I have seen a lot of breasts, and hers _have_ to be natural D's.

But it's not just that, they are perky, holding the weight of the bathing suit like some perfect, perfect, ridiculously realistic fake boobs.

"Paul Lahote I swear to God if you throw me into that water," She scolds. I tear my gaze away from her chest before she can notice and actually realize her face is just as fucking sexy as her body when she is commanding me like this.

"Throw?" I tease. "I was thinking just pull you, but now that you mention it," I latch my hand around her waste again and she squeals as I lift her up.

"Paul!" She complains, giggling nervously as she attempts to free herself from my grasp. "Let go of me," She chuckles, staring at the water uneasily.

I laugh as I lift her in the air, and then toss her a little deeper in, not high enough to actually hurt her, and not deep enough for her to actually freak out. She goes under the water and then emerges with adorable wide eyes and now wet hair.

"Paul!" She squeals nervously as her mouth drops while her eyes skim over the surface of the ocean.

I can't help but laugh as I take one long stride over to close the distance between us. Before I even have a chance to offer her some assistance, Scarlett reaches for my arms and then pulls herself to me. She wraps her legs around my waist and I am so surprised by it that all I can do is let her cling to me and hope to God that I am not dreaming.

"Oh my gosh," She squeals adorably. "Are you crazy? There could have been sharks!"

I burst into laughter. "In five feet deep water, Scar?"

"Eee!" She squeals again and hugs herself to me tighter. "I swear something just touched my foot."

My chest shakes with laughter. This is adorable. Absolutely fucking adorably adorable. She is like a little girl, but a hot, hot little girl. Speaking of hot; her chest is closer now, close enough for me to see that I wasn't imagining things before. They are big, big and perky and circular and perfect. I gulp.

"You're fine Scar," I tell her reassuringly as I try to force my hormones down. I rub the sides of her thighs that are wrapped around me and I notice her blush. I love that.

"Not a fan of the ocean?" I offer.

She actually appears offended. "Okay give me a second to get comfortable before you go making assumptions," She rolls her eyes.

I chuckle. "Is this why you didn't want to come?" I ask, running my fingers through the ends of her silky, wet hair; I can't help myself.

"No," She says slowly, biting the corner of her lip and looking down. Scarlett is using her hands to rest right on top of the water and then move it side to side, creating a sort of small wave that makes me shake just a little bit.

"You can tell me," I reassure her, trying to make my voice sound as least judgmental, least asshole-ish, least _anything_ , so that she might finally trust me enough with some actually important and deeper than surface level information.

After a few more seconds of silence I sigh; she is nearly imposs-

"I've never worn a swimsuit in front of anyone before." Scarlett looks up at me sheepishly from beneath her long, dark lashes and I see a blush form on her adorable cheeks.

"What?" I question, leaning towards her. That certainly can't be right.

She nods her head slowly and then giggles and shakes her head. "It's supper embarrassing."

I can't argue with her because I am so confused. "Didn't you ever go swimming as a kid."

Scarlett's face drops and she suddenly looks so sad. I just want to take all of that away. I swipe the hair from her back in front of her shoulder and then rub her upper-back with my palm.

"You can tell me," I whisper to her.

Scarlett bites the inside of her cheek, which is usually what she does when she is about to cry, lie or is super nervous about something. I am seriously hoping it is none of the three and she surprises me like she does all the time. After a second though, she shakes her head. It is one quick shake, blink and you'll miss it moment, but it is enough- no, it is _something_.

I nod my head, wanting to push but knowing that just the fact that she answered one of my questions and didn't divert is a huge step. Dear hell, by the time I get an actual word out of her I am going to be 40.

"Hey," latch my arm around her waist and pull her closer. Scarlett's eyes go big but there is a certain gleam in them I have never seen before. "Want me to throw you again?" I smile devilishly.

Her mouth parts. "No!"

"Scared?"

Scarlett actually laughs. "Yes," She moans.

I chuckle.

"Fine, I won't throw you, but you have to kiss me."

Her eyebrows rise immediately. "I _have_ to kiss you?"

I nod my head. "Those are the rules. I'm sorry."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine."

I am taken aback; that seemed too easy. "Fine?"

"Fine," She nods her head sweetly.

I lean in.

I never reach Scarlett's lips, because suddenly her hands are on top of my head and I am forced underneath the water. Although it doesn't take much for me to emerge, I must admit that I admire her even more for actually being brave enough to try that.

I shake my hair out and then look at her with a huge grin. "You're gunna get it."

She squeals and lurches away from my hand, diverting me by just a half an inch. I dive for her and she doesn't even have time to scream before I pull us both underneath the water.

She emerges and then swims a good amount ahead of me, splashing me as I tried yet again to take her down.

"Help, Nessie!"

I can't help but frown as my imprint wraps herself around Nessie how I wish she would, and just was, wrapping herself around me.

"Jump waves with me," Nessie tells her as Scarlett detangles herself from her to hover in the water.

"No way! This is too deep for me," Scarlett giggles and swims back to where I am.

"Come on," I complain. "You can't go in the water for the first time and not jump waves," I say low enough so that no one else can hear. She seems to debate this for a moment. "Or I could just cash in on that kiss," I shrug.

Scarlett rolls her eyes and then she reaches for me. My fingertips just barely brush against her smooth, smooth legs as she wraps them around my torso again.

"Fine," She sighs, "But you're doing the jumping! Then the sharks will eat you as I get to swim away!"

"Fine," I laugh, but really, what I am thinking is, oh hell yes.

We stay in the water for about another hour, jumping waves and riding them in and just having a good time. Scarlett is more fun than I thought she was, and I don't mean that as an insult. I just wasn't really sure if she was a stand on the sidelines kind of girl or if she liked to be apart of the action. It wasn't until Embry got the football out and she partook in a game of water football pretty savagely that I realized why I fucking idolize this girl.

Scarlett is ridiculously competitive, which I got a little taste of with the whole pool hustling bit, but now I see in full form. I can totally see how she played so many sports.

As she emerges from the water on to land, I can't help but stare at her unbelievably ridiculous ass as she walks unknowingly to her towel. She lays down on it with a sigh as I follow her out.

Does she really think I am going to lose the chance to hangout with her in just a bathing suit while the rest of our friends are still in the water?

I lie down next to her and she peers over at me with an examining expression. With a giggle she shakes her head and looks up towards the sun.

"Mm, it's such a nice day," She sighs.

I can't get the sound of her moaning out of my head.

"Soak it in now," I smile, "Because this is Forks, it's bound not to happen again for another ten weeks."

She giggles and I swear I have never heard a giggle like that in my entire life.

Scarlett tilts in the sun so that she is lying on her side and then bites the corner of her cheek. "You still interested in that kiss?" She asks.

My eyes widen. I love when Scarlett is so upfront.

I smile. "I am always interested in kissing you."

She blushes right before my very eyes. I chuckle as I reach up and cup her perfect, slightly sunburnt face between my hands. Her nose is red at the very tip and it is making me crazy. I kiss her hot lips once and then a second time, and then on the third I hold it for longer, so long, so, so long until I finally feel her smile and then pull away.

With a content sigh she lies back down on the towel and closes her eyes up at the sun.

I am just about to do the same when something on her pristine skin catches my eye as I am trying to secretly do a run-down of her ridiculous body. There is a scar, something long and thick and white, obviously healed, along her stomach, almost following the length of her hipbone. I blink my eyes, sure I am seeing things, only to be confronted with the same scar over again. How had I missed this before?

I open my mouth to say something, but then she shifts just a little bit, and I see something else. Is that… a burn? Right beneath her bikini, to the side, beneath her rib and a little hidden, there are three, circular healed up wounds. They are light pink and very, very faint, almost like someone tried to fade them somehow.

"Hey Scar, come with me to the bathroom real quick!" Renesmee's voice shocks me, for I had been so focused I hadn't even realized she approached in the first place.

"Okay!" Scarlett pops up, happy and content and carefree for the first time ever.

I stare at her as she goes, swallowing down the question that is eating away from me.

Later, I demand myself. Scarlett is happy, and I don't want to take this day away from her, even though those damn scars just ruined mine.

* * *

Thoughts!? Eeee I hope you like it! Please follow if you haven't already and review too! I love hearing what you all think!


	10. Pafety

Hi awesome readers! Thanks for all the follows and reviews! Hearing all your thoughts really makes me the happiest girl on earth:) I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I sigh contently as the mid-day sun beats down on my starving skin. The rays of Forks, Washington never seem to be enough to fulfill the deep-seated desire for complete and overwhelming heat to encompass my entire being, but it'll do for now; once Paul took me to the beach, I realized that I never, ever want to leave.

Over the past few days, I have spent every waking minute here; seriously. I find that walks on the beach in the morning are just as nice as walks at night, and there is something uniquely peaceful about staring out at the vast ocean stretching as far as the eye can see as the wind blows through your hair, not a soul on the sand but you. I also love the beach during the day though, too.

I pull the hair that has begun sticking to the nape of my neck up and then quickly twist it into a loose braid. I place a stray, wavy piece behind my ear and then adjust my sunglasses on my nose; I told myself I would study, but I instead decided to read.

After a while I left the already worn and tattered copy of my favorite book crumpled in the sand and then picked myself up. I quickly pull a crew-neck overtop of my head, for the air right by the water is always a little chillier, and then head for my favorite place on earth. I take a moment to sigh contently at the water for a second before beginning my trek along my usual path. I shift my gaze towards the sand to look for seashells.

"Scarlett?"

I pick my head up and immediately recognize the familiar "pack," as they oddly like to refer to themselves, engaged in a game of sand soccer. I wave embarrassingly and then head over to them; I know that I shouldn't, but I can't help myself for immediately scanning the group for Paul. I try with all my might to push down the disappointment when I realize he isn't there.

"Hey guys," I say once I get close enough.

"Hey Scar," Jacob smiles casually. "Hittin the beach today?"

I nod my head. "Yes, sir. Is Paul here?"

I bite my lip and then immediately mentally smack myself in the face; I mean, I couldn't even go two sentences without mentioning him? Really Scarlett? I could at least _pretend_ to be subtle.

"I think he's at school right now." Jacob hits Embry's arm. "He's at school now, isn't he?"

"Who?" Embry seems annoyed that Jacob pulled his attention from the game.

"Paul," Jacob rolls his eyes.

"Oh, yeah," Embry replies. "He's got practice till six."

Oh.

It is actually impossible to keep my face from falling.

Jacob notices my expression and then smiles reassuringly as he makes his way over to me. "Sorry, Scar," He says. "I'm sure Nessie's free if you want to call her up."

I only have to force a smile onto my face just a little bit; Renesmee's boyfriend is sweet, not as sweet as Paul, but he's one of those wholesome, good guys that you just want to, and do, really like; he's one of those guys that you just desire to be friends with, but not really date, at least for me that is.

"No it's okay," I smile. "I was just curious."

"Have you talked to him this week?" He pushes.

I gulp down embarrassment. "Who?"

Jacob shoots me a condescending expression. "Scarlett."

I roll my eyes. "Leave me alone Jacob."

Before Jake has a chance to respond, I barely have enough time to dart out of the way before a soccer ball goes smashing into the back of Jacob's head, not that he had must of a response. My mouth drops as I stare in awe at the way that Jacob is still staring at me, almost like he hadn't even felt it. I look from the soccer ball to his head, and then back to the soccer ball again, and wonder if the thing deflated. Jesus Christ, he really gives a whole new meaning to being thick headed.

"Are you okay?" I gawk.

Jake looks at me funny for a second before spotting the ball on the ground. "Oh," He says as he picks it up. He takes a second to examine it in his hand, almost as if he is looking for any dents in the _ball_ and then tosses it back towards the group.

"Real funny Embry!" He calls out.

"Stop flirting with Paul's girl and get over here!" Embry calls back. I take an immediate step back- oh no, is that what Jacob is doing? Renesmee is my only friend in school, and not only that, but I genuinely like her; I am not about to ruin that because someone got the wrong impression. Also, "Paul's girl?" What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?

"He's kidding," Jacob reassures me. "Shut-up Embry you're freaking Scarlett out!" He calls back.

"Dude," Jared begins, "Get over here the game's about to start!"

Jacob looks apologetically at me for a second though I look towards what I now know to be an actual soccer game about to begin. I have to bite back a laugh; these boys are all in their early to mid twenties, yet they still play sports together like they are in their teens; it's surprisingly endearing. Honestly, the only thing that would make this even more endearing is if Paul was here too.

"Sorry," Jacob says, pulling my attention back to him.

"Oh no," I hold up my hands. "Don't worry about it; wouldn't want to keep Embry waiting."

Jacob laughs. "Definitely not. Hey, you don't want to play, do you?"

My eyes go wide on instinct. It is as if all these guys have ridiculously amazing hearing, because I swear all their movements idle the split second those words leave Jacob's lips.

"Ugh," I begin, panic slowly seeping into my veins as I stare at the way that I am obviously not wanted by a huge group of guys and their soccer ball. "N-no. T-that's okay."

"You sure?" Jacob pushes.

"Yes?" I answer uneasily.

"Oh come on," Jacob shoves my arm and I wince. "We want you to play! We want her to play, right guys?" He asks, turning towards the group.

Crickets.

I swear I must turn bright red.

"Ugh," Embry scratches his head.

"Yeah," Jared speaks with obvious fake enthusiasm.

Actually, out of Embry, Jared, Seth, Sam, Quil and Brady watching us, I think Seth is the only one who shows even a little bit of excitement by a smile.

I actually frown at this. "I don't think your friends are interested in being beat by a girl today."

This seems to peak their interest.

"Oh, okay," Jared nods his head. "So that's how it's going to be."

I roll my eyes. "Well I already beat you all at pool, it would be cruel of me really to show you up in a physical sport now too."

Quil laughs and shoves Jared, who mutters something to himself and then starts kicking the ball around.

I giggle but stay where I am. "But really that's okay," I wave my hand. "I don't want to impose. Have fun."

"Awe but you have to play now!" Jacob argues, a huge, and I think ridiculous but Renesmee says cute, smile on his face.

"Unless you're scared," Quil counters, a smirk on his cocky face.

I match his eyes and then take a step forward.

Game on.

* * *

"Jesus Scarlett," Jared falls down in the sand next to me and I giggle and blow some of the hair that came out of the braid during our soccer game out of my eyes. "You're incredible." He offers me his knuckle and I giggle and pound it.

"Yeah," Quil comes on the other side of me. "You're our new secret weapon."

"You're only saying that because she was on your team," Seth huffs as he crosses his arms a few feet away.

"Boys please," I joke, flipping my hair to the back.

They chuckle and I giggle myself. To say that Paul's friends had been impressed by my soccer skills would be an understatement; it practically took them half a game to recover from the shock that I could actually beat them in speed and agility before they actually started trying.

"Just wait till Paul hears about this," Embry begins. "Whew," He finishes with a whistle.

"Yeah," Jared laughs. "At least she had a shirt on."

"What?" I question, my cheeks heating up at the reference of me in third person.

"Nothing," Jared answers quickly, while everyone else moves onto a new subject.

"Yo I'm leavin' because I've got plans with Nessie tonight, so whoever's coming with me let's book it."

I am pretty sure every one of those boys moans consecutively.

"You're always with that little pixie," Embry sighs, and then he makes his voice go real high like a girls, "I remember what that used to be me," He says with a fake tear at the end. I giggle.

"Hey Scar, you need a ride?" He raises his eyebrow at me. Poor Jacob, he has practically become a chauffeur for Renesmee and I; somehow it just became routine for Renesmee to pick me up in her car on the way to school, and then for him to take both of us home after- I need to reevaluate my treatment of friends.

"No that's okay," I stand and then brush the sand off of my legs. It may just be my imagination, but I swear I noticed Embry staring.

"I've got to get going anyways," I lie. "Thanks for the confidence boost, guys."

They moan and I giggle. I wave goodbye and then head off towards my towel a little ways down the beach. It is only once I reach the safe confides of my secluded area that I finally allow myself to pull my sweatshirt overtop of my head and drop into the sand.

"Whew," I sigh and then lay down, spreading my arms and legs out as I let the cool ocean wind glide over my hot skin. That was fun but it sure was a workout. The one thing I can say about that little impromptu soccer game though, is that it really did make me miss sports. The thing about sports is that they are such an outlet; for that hour, or however long it may be, I don't think about anything else- I _can't_ think about anything else; my competitiveness takes over and all of my problems fade into my innate desire to beat my competitor. I have missed that feeling.

After a few more minutes I decide to head back home. Although it actually pains me to leave before it gets dark, I know that I actually do have a few things that I need to catch up on tonight, and that I could always just come back later.

The walk takes about a solid twenty minutes, but I really don't mind; I am honestly not lying when I tell people that I genuinely enjoy walking. Once I get back into my aunt's house, I run up to my room and plop my beach bag on the floor, not worrying too much about the sand that I probably just scattered on the white carpet, and instead just telling myself that I will vacuum it later.

I let my sweat-shirt and shorts and then my bikini top and bottom litter the ground on my way to the bathroom, and then I step into the shower. As soon as the hot water pounds against my skin, I sigh a breath of pure contentment. I have never really enjoyed showering before. I never understood it when girls would joke about how they couldn't get out of the shower in the morning and hence missed class, but that is probably because they served a much different purpose to me.

I always showered after the blunt of whatever pain I was receiving on that particular night was over. Something about it washing everything red down the drain was a necessary evil, but it also was a time when I couldn't hide the blue and the black and the swollen. I hated looking down. I hated seeing myself without clothes on.

Even now, I find myself subconsciously keeping my gaze straight ahead, not letting it drift down to my exposed body, even though I know that there is nothing there. Once I let my eyes look down, though, I am still surprised when I see nothing but smooth, even skin below me. I don't look like myself without bruises.

I press my forehead into the tile wall and take a slow, deep breath. I search for a strength that I do not acquire as the memories begin to overtake me; I have spent way too much time alone this last week.

I am beginning to notice how every week away from _him_ makes me able to last longer without thinking about him, but that doesn't mean I never do. In the beginning I couldn't go one night alone, and now I am going three, four, five days, but then it hits, and when it hits… it hits hard.

I clutch my stomach in my hand and press my eyes tighter together. _No_ I command myself. No! I beg myself not to do this, but I can't help it. That anxiety that came only after years of walking on constant eggshells, engulfs my stomach, and then I throw up.

My throw-up splashes against my feet and I press my eyes tight, tight, tighter together because I hate hate hate myself for not being able to control control control it and being stupid stupid stupid.

He's not here. _He is not here._

I keep screaming the truth in my brain but my body doesn't care. My brain knows not to panic but I can't help myself- it is second nature.

I stumble back until my bare back hits the tile and then slide down onto my floor. I rest my head between my legs and begin rocking back and forth.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

I know what is coming, but I have no idea how to stop it.

And suddenly, I can't breathe.

I make a sound that comes out entirely foreign to me and then rock myself back and forth faster now, and more violently too.

I need to breathe- I know I do. I hate when I pass out from panic attacks, especially because in my brain I am screaming, yelling, demanding myself to breathe but I just forget how.

When I begin gasping for breath is when I stop thinking altogether.

My lungs constrict.

My joints tense.

My panic reaches my throat but it has nowhere to go.

I can't breathe, and so I gasp at the air, wanting, needing, demanding it but not getting enough to sustain my body.

I grasp my head tightly between my hands and shake it back and forth and I need to breathe and stop and I need to breathe and stop and I need to breathe and stop and I need to breath I need to breathe stop I need to breathe stop breathe stop breathe stop breathe.

Blackness spots at the corners of my vision and it only aides in my panic attack even more. I know what is coming, and my unwillingness to allow it to occur drives it to actually happen.

I lose consciousness all at once, but it is just enough time for me to tuck my head between my legs, and make sure that I don't slam it against the tile.

* * *

The dial-tone rings only twice before I hear that annoyingly perfect sing-songy tone of Renesmee Cullen.

"Hello," She sings across the line.

I roll my eyes as I run a towel through my damp hair.

"Hey Ness, are you free tonight?"

"Yes ma'am," She actually does sing this time.

"Super," I reply sarcastically, although I actually am happy. "Be over in 10?"

"Perfect."

"Bye!"

I press end and then quickly get throw a super soft, red tee-shirt dress on; this time, I make sure not to look down at myself as I do so.

I don't even knock as I enter Renesmee's house this time, but that is only because her family scolded me the last two times I did. Even though it is still rather uncomfortable for me to just barge right in, I really find it that much _more_ uncomfortable to sit through a lecture on how it is rude for me _not_ to walk right in, as confusing as that is, so I force myself to go along with it.

"Hey Scarlett!" I hear Mrs. Cullen call from the living room.

"Hi Mrs. Cullen!" I call back as I head up the stairs.

I pass Alice on the way up to Nessie's room but then am quickly turned around.

"Scarlett!" Alice quickly hugs me. "Nessie and Jacob just left for the other house."

"Got it!" I turn on my heel and run just as quickly down those stairs as I ran up them.

"Bye Scarlett!" Mrs. Cullen calls again.

"Bye!" I laugh as I close the door behind me.

I practically sprint into the cottage. "Ugh!" I moan as I throw the door open and jump on her on the couch. I honestly just need to cling onto someone and never let go, even if that person is as tiny and bony as a tree-stump.

"Wow! Ugh, this is- I mean, okay?"

Wait.

That is definitely not a female…

"Ah!" I scream and jump off of them. "Good God what the hell did I just hug?"

Renesmee rolls her eyes as she climbs off of Jacob and adjusts her shirt. "Oh relax, my clothes are still on."

"Dear Lord in heaven," I murmur.

She stands and then smiles widely as she goes to jump on me, but I take a step back and hold my hand up. "No thank you."

"Oh come on," She places her hands on her sides and then pops her hip. "Stop being so dramatic."

"I will gladly take the label of dramatic if it means not getting scary bodily substances on my body that belong to Jacob Black or Renesmee Cullen."

Jacob laughs.

Renesmee narrows her eyes at him.

"Fine," She states, her lip pulling up into an evil grin. Oh no, I have come to expect some very bad things when it comes to that grin… "Would you prefer Paul's bodily substances instead?"

My mouth drops. "What?"

"He's coming over," She sighs and then sits back on the couch, although thankfully this time I can see both sets of their hands.

I blink at her a few times, sure that she will give some sort of explanation for this, but of course being left with no other choice than to ask. "Why?" I begin slowly.

"Jacob said you asked about him today," She nods her head.

"You did," Jacob pipes in.

I narrow my eyes about him.

"One time," I correct. "And I was just being polite."

Renesmee actually scoffs.

I death glare her too.

"Hey, ugh, by the way, if it wasn't for my completely overstated self-confidence and knowledge that I am amazing, I would seriously have an issue with you playing tackle football with my boyfriend in a bikini."

My eyes practically pop out of my head. "Tackle football?" I gasp. "We played soccer." I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks. "And I had clothes on!"

"He's not going to care," She laughs, and then Jacob joins in on an inside joke that I seem to not be apart of.

"Who?" I ask, feeling like an idiot for not understanding what is just o funny.

"Paul," Nessie speaks between giggles.

"What about him?"

There is a knock on the door.

"Are you going to let him in or should I?" She sighs.

I swear if I didn't love her as much as I despise her in this moment, I just might have lunged at her. Instead, I hesitantly walk towards the front door, and open it.

Paul Lahote is standing in the doorway, looking extremely uncomfortable. Don't get me wrong, he looks hot, extremely uncomfortable, but hot none-the-less.

"Hi," I smile and rest my body against the doorframe. I don't know what it is about him that makes my body feel to heavy to hold up.

"Hey," He smiles, that tension that mad been making him appear so out of place fading almost instantly as he smiles at me.

I melt.

"How are you?" He asks gently.

"Fine," I bite the corner of my lip. I nearly asking how he is, but then I realize that that would just make this conversation even more awkward; Paul and I aren't strangers, but I can't just reach across the doorframe and kiss him either.

"Are you going to let me in?" He asks after a moment.

"Wh- oh!" I take a sudden step back and then watch with embarrassment as he laughs and steps inside of the Cullen's much smaller and more homely, second house. "S-sorry," I bite the corner of my lip.

Paul smiles widely and then shakes his head at me, almost as if he is holding back saying something.

As soon as I close the door though, that same expression is on his face, like he just smelled something rancid. "Are you feeling okay?" I ask slowly, for I am thinking he may just be ill.

"Ugh," He shakes his head and then takes another breath, trying to hide the slight look of disgust although I sure notice it. "No I just- I've never been here before."

It takes me a moment to understand what this means. "Like, you've never been to Nessie's house before?"

I look towards the couch where Jacob and Renesmee were just sitting but then find that spot empty. I am honestly half surprised to find that they aren't in fact in her bedroom doing God knows what, but instead in the kitchen, eating something as they sit next to each other at the island.

"Yeah."

"How come?" I ask, for this seems kind of impossible to me. For how much all the "pack" members and their girlfriend's hangout, you would think that they would have been over to Nessie's house countless times.

Paul smiles at me but ignores my question. "How was your day today?"

I sigh, and once I do I suddenly realize that I just sighed in front of him, and then I realize that for a split second I had no inclination to lie and tell him "fine," which is my answer to any and all questions. It shocks me so much I am not able to answer.

"Not good?" He asks, his voice quieter and his eyes deeper this time.

Okay, I can't help myself.

I let my shoulders fall and then press my hands tightly to the front of my body; I walk into him and then rest my forehead against his chest. It takes him a second, probably adjusting to the shock of my action to be completely honest, before he wraps his arms around my back and presses me tightly to him.

It is weird, because you would think with him holding me this tightly it would make me feel trapped, but I honestly feel like I can breathe again.

Perhaps I hadn't been allowing myself to feel the weight of my panic attack in the shower today while I was so busy trying to distract myself, but as soon as I saw Paul, it was like I just wanted to be comforted; I wanted a hug, but I didn't just want any hug, I wanted his hug.

I have honestly never felt this before, but I suddenly realize what it is about Paul that sends me practically being thrown in his direction; with his arms wrapped tightly around me and his ridiculous and impossibly-human warmth engulfing me in heat, I feel something that I have never felt in my entire life: I feel safe.

"Not that I'm complaining," I hear Paul's cocky voice, forcing me to roll my eyes, "But is everything okay?"

I sigh. "Now, yes."

I feel his arms tighten around me and I can't help but smile. "Did something happen at school?"

"No."

"Home?"

I stiffen. "No."

"Scarlett," He scolds.

I moan, for all I want to do is stand here with his giant muscles around me, breathing in his scent and pretending for a second like my life doesn't' completely suck. "Paul, would you stop ruining this by talking?"

"I'm not ruining anything," He argues, "I'm just wondering what's wrong."

"Paul," I moan and begrudgingly push away from his chest. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You never want to talk about anything," He states, his expression colder than I am used to.

I try not to take it personal. I shouldn't even care.

"I'm fine," I bite the inside of my cheek.

"You're obviously not fine," He states bluntly.

"Okay," I sigh.

"So something did happen?" He sounds more pleased that he is right than anything.

"Yes Paul," I can't help myself from growing agitated. "You're right. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Chill out," His voice is cutting and I wince away, and then, "Why do you always do that?"

I freeze.

He reaches his hand up, fast and quick and I jump back, my eyes growing wide and my joints tensing and waiting for the blow on instinct. "Yeah, that," He repeats, louder this time, as he lets his hand fall to his side.

"I-I," I begin, my voice quieter than I wish it was.

"Do you honestly think I would ever hurt you?" He pushes

"I" I stammer, flustered now. "I don't want to talk to you anymore," I mumble. I cross my arms overtop of my chest as I head for the kitchen, where Nessie and Jake are both staring at me with concerned expressions. Paul wasn't exactly being quiet, but he wasn't shouting either.

"Scar," Paul enters the kitchen and I stiffen. "I just want you to answer my question. I'm sorry I got loud with you."

My hands shake as I grab a glass from the cabinet and begin filling it with water. "W-well, I suggest you stop expecting to get everything you want all the time."

"What the hell?" Paul's hands form into fists at his sides and I completely freeze. My eyes can't stop looking at those fists, so familiar looking, so tight and tensed and powerful and ready. I feel sick. "I am interested in your life, is _that_ okay?"

"Th-th-that's fine," I mumble. I look towards Nessie and Jake, honestly terrified and flustered and just wanting this to end. Nessie pops off Jacob's lap in a mili-second.

"Hey Paul, I think maybe you should leave," She begins hesitantly. "Cool off a little bit."

"No, it's not fucking fine." Paul completley ignores her as he takes a step closer and I take a step back. "What the hell, Scarlett. Why do you do that? What the fuck am I supposed to do when you act like this?"

I shift my gaze to the floor.

"Scarlett," He begins, his voice still hard. I bite the inside of my cheek and wish for this to be over.

Suddenly, his feet take a step forward and I jump back, dropping the glass in my hand onto the ground and then wincing as it completely shatters all over the tile floor.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry," I stumble nervously.

"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Paul continues, completely ignoring the broken glass. I finally look up and see that although his body is tensed his eyes are soft. "You think that I'm going to hurt you? Why would you ever think that? I wanted to hold you Scar, I'm not going to hurt you."

My brows crinkle and I bite my lip so hard that I taste blood. I want him to do just that, more than anything, which doesn't even make any sense because I am terrified. In this moment, right now, I am terrified of him but I also know he is the only one that I want to comfort me- I am confusing even my own self.

"Scar?" Paul speaks, and I watch as the tension leaves his shoulders completely in one short breath. I begin to step forward but he throws his hand out.

I immediately gasp and wince away. My back is pressed up against the wall and then I open my eyes that are slammed shut to see him holding his hand out with wide eyes. He looks completely freaked out.

After a few seconds of us staring at each other with equally as wide eyes, Paul is the first to speak. "I was just going to tell you not to move. There's glass everywhere."

"Oh," I gulp and then look towards my hands, suddenly feeling very ridiculous.

This is Paul, _Paul_ , he may have just been a hot head, but I know he would never actually hurt me. It's just, I am so used to it that I don't know what it feels like to believe in someone caring enough about me not to hurt me.

"Did you think I was going to hit you?" Paul asks bluntly, and that is right when his body begins to shake. I stare at him in confusion and honestly some fear and then look towards Nessie and Jake, only to see their spots vacant; I don't even remember them leaving.

"Scarlett," Paul demands when I don't respond. "Answer me right now."

I stammer with my words for a second before I finally give up. I let my arms and my eyes drop to the ground and lose all the fight I have left in me; I am much too tired to be on guard anymore. "I can't talk to you Paul," I speak, my voice thick and heavy with tears that suddenly begin to flow out of me. "I want to but I just… can't."

I hear glass crinkle as he walks right overtop of them, and am about to ask if he is crazy because even with shoes on he surely could get cut, when he wraps his arms around my back and pushes me to his chest.

I grasp a fistful of his shirt and cry into his hot chest.

I hate crying; one thing that I have learned over the years is that crying doesn't help anything, so I continue to gasp in sobs, attempting to hold them in, which just ends up in me gasping about every two seconds.

"Just let it out," Paul kisses my hair and I shake my head into his chest.

No one has ever told me that before.

He laces his fingers in my hair and I suck in a few more sobs. "Why do you think I would hit you?" His voice sounds hurt.

"It's not you Paul," I manage to cry out. "It's me. I'm sorry. I- I'm messed up- I,"

"No," His arms tighten around me. "You are perfect. I have a temper. I need to control myself; you shouldn't be afraid of me."

"But it's not you," I sob, suddenly feeling so much worse than before. Paul shouldn't feel responsible for this.

"Don't cry Scar," Paul grunts to himself. "I'm an idiot."

"No you're not," I whimper, clinging tighter to his tee shirt.

"Do you want me to take you home?" He asks, beginning to pull away from me.

In that very moment, a panic hot and fresh and devitalizing begins to take over my entire body. I don't want him to let me go, and I know that I need to give him something, even if it scares me.

"No, Paul. Please." I cling onto his shirt tighter, searching for something, anything to say that my brain will allow my mouth to speak. "I feel very, safe with you."

Paul's arms wrap tighter around me and I finally feel like I can breathe again. I take a deep breath of his scent that smells just like spices and fire and lose myself in his embrace.

 _Paul will never hurt me._ I tell myself over and over and over again.

He will never beat me or kick me or call me names.

Paul will never hurt me.

"I'm sorry," I sniffle into his chest, pressing my cheek into the muscle and letting my hand rest against his abdomen. "I swear to God I never cry; you are the only person that I cry around."

He laughs gently and the feeling of his chest vibrating soothes me in a way I can't quite explain.

"Don't worry Scar, you're perfect."

I roll my eyes. "You just feel bad for me."

"No I don't," He sighs into my hair. "I was already in a pissy mood before I came over here; I should have known it and controlled myself."

I sigh. "What were _you_ upset about?" I ask, finally ready to talk about someone else's problems for a change.

He grunts but doesn't respond. I squint my forehead in confusion, though because he is still hugging me he can't see. "Nothing," He grumbles. And then a second later, "What is it I hear about this naked football game?"

"A what?" I almost spontaneously combust right then and there. I pull away from him with wide eyes and a blush that must be turning my face a different color.

Paul stares at me for a second before swiping his thumb underneath of my eye. Oh yeah, in my embarrassment I had nearly forgotten that I had been crying a few seconds ago.

"Yeah." Paul's hands trail lower so that they are wrapped around my waist as he continues to hold me to him, although in this moment a small part of me wishes for some space because I am utterly and entirely embarrassed. "Embry was getting on my nerves," He finishes with gritted teeth.

"Okay, first of all how do you people get your information? Because it was soccer not football, and secondly _I had clothes on_!" I exclaim.

"A bikini is not clothes," He tells me sternly.

"Uhm, excuse me, you bought me that bikini if I do remember correctly."

"Not to be worn for Embry," He mumbles angrily to himself.

"What?" I blurt.

"Nevermind."

"I had a sweatshirt on the entire time," I huff.

"Scarlett, your legs are like crack cocaine for some of those boys."

My eyes widen into saucers. "What?" I squeak.

He shakes his head and then looks up towards the ceiling. "You have no idea. God," He begins again, looking back down towards me. "You're so cute but have no idea."

"Thanks?" I reply hesitantly.

He sighs and gently swipes a piece of hair behind my ear. "Next time you decide to get involved with any sporting event with all guys, could you please just be sure to have pants on? That is really all I ask."

I press my lips tighter tightly when they start to pull up into a grin. Is Paul trying to say that the reason he was so on edge was because he was… jealous?

"Did they tell you that I kicked their asses though?" I ask brightly as I smile up at him.

Paul rolls his eyes. "Yeah well I didn't ever doubt that."

I smile and bite the corner of my lip. "It was super fun."

"You should join the soccer team," Paul sighs, seeming to give up this battle with the pants and instead trying to do his best to push the conversation to a lighter tone.

"Eh," I shrug, "I'm probably not good enough; they weren't much competition."

Paul raises his eyebrows at me. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," I giggle.

"I'll play you if you want some real competition."

I shake my head at him. "Oh how selfless of you."

"I try to give back when I can," Paul flashes me that cocky smile that makes me roll my eyes but also want to kiss him at the same time.

"I shall take you up on that one day Lahote."

He chuckles and then reaches out to run his hand along the side of my hair.

"Are you better baby girl?" He asks gently.

I bite the corner of my lip and will myself, will myself, will myself not to blush, although from the way that Paul laughs and then rubs the back of his fingers against my cheek I know that I fail.

God, it's just something about that damn nickname.

I nod my head. Paul rests his back against the cabinets and then reaches for me again. I smile shyly as I place my hands in his and then let him pull me back against his chest. I like this position much more, with his legs wide so that I can fit between them and the way he is leaning making me able to fit into the curve of his shoulder when I normally would only make it to his mid-chest. I bury my forehead under his chin and close my eyes.

"We should probably clean up that glass," I sigh. "You keep making me break things."

"Shh," Paul laughs as he runs his fingers gently up and down my back. I sigh contently.

Paul rocks me back and forth gently, and I am safe again.

"Pafety" at its absolute finest.

* * *

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	11. Secrets

Hey everyone! Please enjoy chapter 11, one of my faves so far:) A huge thanks to all the readers and reviewers!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Hey you."

Paul Lahote rests against the locker next to mine, and my eyes widen in surprise. I am temporarily tempted to hug him, but then I remember that I am, in fact, in school, and my fellow peers are, in fact, watching.

"Didn't we already establish that school is a no speaking zone?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

He smiles widely and then shakes his head. God, why does that have to look so adorable? "No, you did."

"Yeah, well, the last time you talked to me in front of your prior escapades I got a shower."

Paul laughs. "You're going to Jake's bonfire tonight, right?"

I smile, I just can't help it. "Of course. What else would I do with my Friday night?"

"Go to the football game?" He suggests with a wide grin.

"Definitely not," I grumble, but that has more to do with me overhearing a conversation earlier this week about trying to 'hit up the football coach for some 1-on-1 lessons." Gag.

"You okay?" He asks.

"I'm thinking about joining the soccer team," I say, changing the subject.

"Oh," Paul nods his head. "Think you'll wear pants this time?"

I roll my eyes.

In the week since the whole "glass breaking" incident, Paul and I have been better than ever. We are weirdly comfortable, we're kind of like… friends? He texts me and I respond, nothing crazy but we still keep a conversation going throughout the day, and then during the week he has come over a few times and helped me, okay maybe _made me_ dinner, and then once we went to the beach, not that anything like what happened in the water the first time happened again, though.

"I was actually thinking of starting a strip-soccer league."

"Very interested," Paul smiles devilishly.

"What are you so interested in?" I tease. I lean forward, close to him, close enough so that his grin drops and his eyes shift to my lips. "You've already seen half the student body naked."

I slam my locker and then giggle as I begin walking away.

I wince as I am sure everyone can hear him call down the hall. "See you later, Scar!"

If anyone thinks that he was him just trying to be nice there, and that he wasn't purposefully calling out to me with our future plans whilst using the nickname he penned for me for the entire school to hear, than you just don't know Paul Lahote.

* * *

A few hours and some homework later, I am walking up to Jake's bonfire with Nessie Cullen.

"You seriously need to break glass more often," She says for about the tenth time."

I nervously look around to make sure no one can hear; thankfully we are out of hearing distance. "I seriously have no idea what you find so sexy about him yelling at me," I mumble.

"Not the yelling at you," She corrects me, flipping her golden brown hair over her shoulder as she does so, "The hugging you and calling you 'baby girl' part though, whew I am heated."

I roll my eyes. "How did you even hear that," I grumble.

"Oh!" She smacks my arm and I debate pushing her down. "The best was, 'I wanted to hold you Scar!' Dear God I didn't know Paul had it in him. Actually, now that I think about it, I feel like he's always been very vocal like that."

"I seriously need to get you a muzzle."

"Oh, by the way, you're free next weekend, right?"

"Why?" I hold out the word; Renesmee Cullen asking this question is much scarier than any other ordinary person.

"For my birthday," She rolls her eyes.

I have to contemplate this for a moment. "Isn't your birthday in like a month?"

"Awe," She smiles over at me. "You remembered!" I roll my eyes. "Yes but we're taking the trip early because everyone's schedule matches up."

"Trip?"

"Yeah," She smiles widely. "I just got you a ticket yesterday actually."

I frown. "Ticket?"

She nods her tiny, little head. "Florida."

"Florida?"

"Would you please stop repeating everything I say," She speaks finally. "Very annoying."

"What is going on?" I can't help but let out a laugh of disbelief.

"I've had my birthday trip planned since before I met you- sorry. We're going to Florida for the weekend."

My mouth opens. "Florida?"

"Yes Scarlett," She sighs. "We have been through this already.

"But," My voice falters. "Why? When? How? I- I don't even think I can afford that right now."

"I already said I bought your ticket, silly. I'm not about to invite people on an 18th birthday trip and then expect them to pay for it! Gosh what kind of monster do you think I am?" She laughs, I remain silent. "But anyways, Jacob and Seth and Embry and Jared and Quil were coming, and then Paul was being his usual self and said no, but now since I said you were coming he's coming now so I bought his ticket yesterday too. Oh, and Kim's coming as well so it'll be fun!"  
I think my blood turns to ice.

"I-,"

"Non-refundable ticket!" She squeaks before I can protest.

I blink a few times.

"Alright so," She says as she loops her arm around mine and begins practically dragging me. "Should I restart your heart or are you going to be okay?"

I actually roll my eyes at that one. "I just would have preferred for you to ask me is all."

Now she is the one to roll her eyes at me. "You're not busy, are you?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

She giggles. "You should be thanking me. You can share a room with Paul."

My eyes bulge. "What?" I giggle nervously.

"I feel like he would be like super _sensual_ in the bedroom."

My cheeks blush, but differently because I am with Renesmee; I am able to let my curiosity known and not be as embarrassed as I usually would. "You think?" I whisper.

"Totally," She nods her head. "Like he would definitely be very vocal."

"That's kind of super hot," I giggle.

"I bet he'd be generous too," She lets out a giggle of her own.

I burst into laughter, my cheeks heating up bright red just at what she is insinuating, but then reach for her hands and attempt to quiet us both down, for surely they can hear us laughing from here.

"Is that what Jacob's like?" I ask with a sly smile.

I honestly wish this girl would flush, but seriously I think nothing short of watching her have sex would embarrass her. "Jacob's very vocal after," She sighs in bliss, just thinking about it."

"I can't believe you're not a virgin anymore," I giggle like a little school-girl. "Did it hurt?"

"Too much," She moans.

I burst into laughter just as Jacob wraps his arms around Nessie's back. "What's so funny?" He asks, kissing her neck sloppily.

I roll my eyes; they really aren't shy with their constant PDA.

"Alright, alright, save it for the bedroom Jake."

What's funny, is that _Jake_ is actually the one to blush. I shake my head and walk off towards the actual fire. I chuckle to myself while thinking about what Renemsee said about him being a virgin; she said he lasted about five seconds, and then he lasted about ten seconds, and then fifteen, and then she was just kind of annoyed because she went through all that pain for about a total of thirty seconds of stimulation; the way she said it still makes me laugh.

Even though I know I shouldn't be thinking like this, I just can't help but contemplate how Paul wouldn't have any of those problems; he is far from pure. Renesmee had then joked that he would know what he was doing though.

Whew- I am getting heated.

Honestly, I shouldn't even been thinking about this- only, I can't not. We've been kissing; not often, not sensual, not flashing red hot sex or anything like that, but when he was leaving my house he kissed me both times, quickly and softly but sweetly, and then he brushed the hair out of my eyes and called me "baby girl" and I think I died a little both times. And honestly, when he's kissing me and calling me that, I can't _not_ think about sex with him.

"Hey Scarlett," Emily calls a few feet away with a small wave.

I wave at her and smile openly; Emily is just a warm person, and not temperature wise like Paul.

"Hi Em," I blush just a little at the nickname. Everyone else calls her it, so I thought I would just start, and even though she doesn't make any reaction to it, I still feel kind of uncomfortable. "Have you seen Paul?"

Shit. I try to hide a wince.

I really need to start engaging people in causal conversation and asking about their lives before I just go jumping into Paul.

"I think he's in the back getting some more wood with Sam and Embry," She smiles.

I nod my head. "How's little Sam?"

Emily smiles just a little bit brighter and I can't help but stare; is it just natural to love your child that much? If not, how does it happen? I would like to ask her, to realize if my case was just a distorted gene or chromosome or something, but I think that may be a little weird. "He is at home with the babysitter, hopefully asleep by the time we get back," She laughs.

I chuckle. "Well that's good. I need to meet that little guy."

"Definitely," She nods her head. "You need to come over for dinner. Paul keeps you all to himself."

I roll my eyes. "Paul doesn't have anything to keep for anyone."

"Ugh!" Em smiles so brightly it makes me laugh. "We so appreciate you!"

I giggle, although I am not really sure what that means.

I hear a whistle and then turn in the direction of what I somehow know is going to be Paul. He is walking back with Sam and Embry, though I don't see any firewood in their hands. I can't help but stare.

God, Paul is so perfect. Those muscles and that jawline and just how freaking _big_ he is. I bite the corner of my lip.

I totally forget about Emily as I begin walking towards him.

Once I am halfway there I notice Paul notice me and then bite my lip to keep from smiling too wide as he calls out to me.

"Scarlett O'Hara?"

"Very funny," I say, though I doubt they heard me. I shake my head towards the ground just so I will have another place to look.

When I look up again they are closer than I expected, but I guess they really do have ridiculously long legs because of their height. As soon as they reach me I don't even have time to say hi to any of them before Paul engulfs me in a bear hug.

"Scarlett!" He speaks in a ridiculously happy voice I don't really think I have ever heard him use before. He quickly scratches my back a few times before pulling me away and then kissing me suddenly. I stiffen at the movement, so sudden and sure and unexpected, but then I melt into him; of course it doesn't last as long as I want it to.

"Hi," I speak, breathless now.

"Hi," He repeats, and spins me around in the air once.

I squeal and he sets me down sloppily and then kisses me again, cupping my cheek between his hand as I stumble back from being just a little bit dizzy.

"Paul," I giggle and pull away.

"What sexy?" He pulls me close to his chest with a goofy, wide grin and I can't help my mouth from dropping. Paul has insinuated it before, that is for sure, but he has never outright called me sexy. I think I may faint. Yet standing here in the dark with the faintest hint of fire illuminating his perfect jawline, I can't help myself anymore.

I wrap my arms around his neck and smile shyly as I press my face up to his. Paul kisses me softly at first, but then he presses himself closer, and all the lightness is immediately sucked out of me, literally.

Paul's mouth moves feverishly against my own, and then I feel his hand, strong and hot and defined, trailing up my thigh; I honestly don't even care if anyone can look towards the woods and see us. My body is shaking with desire; I have honestly never felt this before. I want more but I have no idea what; all that I know is that I need, want, have to have more, right now.

I open my mouth and then Paul's tongue slides inside, almost like it was waiting for me. I gasp just barely as our tongues glide against each other and we kiss in an entirely different way; he tastes oddly sweet, spicy even, but there is something else that that I can't quite place, all I know is that it's strong. Paul's hand rubs my hip and I press myself closer to him. I have to break after a few more seconds because I honestly feel like I can't breathe anymore.

I rest my mouth against his as we breathe deeply together. I take a long inhale, and then my entire body freezes.

Paul's breath reeks of Whiskey.

But not just any whiskey.

 _His_ whiskey.

Paul's lips travel a trail from my mouth to my neck and then they begin sucking on a spot between my collarbone and ear that is definitely more sensitive. It would feel amazing if I wasn't terrified.

Something about smelling that whiskey, about inhaling it like that, I can't, I just- I know that if I don't get out of here I will have a panic attack.

His hand snakes down my thigh and I wince. "Paul," I mutter, my voice quiet and quick and weak.

He kisses my neck again and I actually cringe.

"Paul," I speak again, my voice just a little bit louder and more frantic this time.

His palm is sturdy and hard as he rubs it up the back of my thigh.

"Paul," I whimper, and in a rush of adrenaline shove his chest back.

Finally he jumps away.

His eyes are wide as his mouth hangs open.

Paul reaches for me but I pull my hand away quickly. I take a shaking step back and then try to speak but my breaths are becoming fast and panicked; I need to get out of here.

I turn on my heel and tuck my arms around myself in order to hold everything together. I need some space. I need to be alone. I need to get out of here.

I walk back towards the fire, but to the side, away from the people and the noise and God I need to be alone because I am beginning to not be able to breathe.

Please don't do this right now Scarlett.

I am screaming at myself but it isn't working.

 _Stop thinking,_ I instruct myself. I know that if I want to prevent this panic attack that I have to stop. I _must_ stop trying to actually make it go away.

I focus on my breathing.

Focus on not crying.

Focus on breathing so much, that I barely even hear Paul as he calls after me.

"Scarlett!" He calls, and then I swear I hear other voices and other feet and other people asking me what is wrong but I can't hear them I can't breathe I can only walk, walk, walk.

I feel something wet slide down my cheek and then I realize I am crying, but I can't see, I can't think, I can't breathe.

My vision gets blurry and I suck in a panicked breath.

No.

I can't tell if I am crying or about to collapse.

I make it to the road and then I keep going. Keep walking. Keep going, going, going.

I am not sure how long I make it before I have to drop. I let my body fall to the pavement as graceful as I possibly can. I tuck my legs close to my chest and let my head drop between them. I squeeze it together and will myself will myself will myself to stop.

I take slow, deep breaths.

Slow, deep breaths.

Slow, deep breaths.

He isn't here.

He isn't here.

Paul isn't him.

Paul isn't him.

Slow, deep breaths.

I can breathe again.

I slowly pick my head back up and let my legs fall onto the pavement. I still focus on my breathing as I look around, suddenly aware of my surroundings for the first time.

I actually made it pretty far.

Although I can still see Jacob's small, red house in the distance, the one Renesmee told me used to technically be his dad's before he moved out and got a condo, I can't make out any faces.

No one followed me.

I can't tell if I am more relieved than terrified.

I seriously can't believe that I just did that. I am so upset at myself that it bleeds into being upset with Paul too; why the hell did he have to do that? I know that the whiskey freaked me out, that he probably couldn't have known too, but he was all over me.

I need to get out of here.

Before taking another glance at the red house, I start my journey back home, quickly this time.

I half expect Paul to follow me, though that doesn't make it any less terrible. I need _space_. I need a second to catch my breath away from him and all his friends and this weird reason that I still don't understand, as to why I let him make me feel this much. I need to be alone.

A few minutes later I hear a car pull up next to me but choose to ignore it, hoping that he will get the message and just leave me alone, only, it follows slowly next to me.

"Scarlett."

I hear a voice call through the car, and turn in surprise to the tone that is definitely not Paul's. Embry sits in the driver's seat, his face tilted towards the open window as one hand rests on the steering wheel.

I ignore him and cross my arms overtop of my chest as I continue forward. Why can't anyone just understand that I want to be alone right now?

"Scarlett," He calls again, his car glued to me.

"Go away Embry," I mutter loud enough for him to hear.

"Get in."

I shake my head and continue forward.

"Scarlett, come on," Embry pleads.

"Can you just leave me alone?" I finally explode. "I don't understand why all of you can't just leave me alone!"

The tears that have been condensing in the corners of my eyes finally spill over, and I angrily swipe at my cheeks, annoyed that I allowed myself to cry in front of him.

"Scarlett, I know the guy's an idiot, okay? I'm his best friend; I know. Would you just get in the car?"

"No," I answer immediately. I start walking again, and am not even surprised when he trails the car next to me.

"Look, I had to hold him back from running after you and slinging you overtop of his shoulder. I know you need space, but I'm not about to let you walk around alone in the middle of the night."

"Why not?" I try to keep my voice as even and unaffected as possible.

"Because you don't need to be alone right now."

I can't help but laugh. "That's honestly all I want to be."

"Get in."

"Just stop it Embry," I speak hastily.

"I'm not letting you walk home alone."

"I'm not going home," I say, and suddenly I realize that I wouldn't even be able to go home if I wanted to; I don't have a home.

"Than I'll take you to wherever you want to go and then wait in the car."

Curiosity overcomes me; I tilt my head to catch Embry staring at me with a passive expression.

"Why do you care?" I ask slowly.

"Would you just get in?" He stops the car and then leans over to open the passenger door from the inside. I stare at the now open door with absolutely no intention of getting in. "Come on," Embry sighs. "There's literally not a chance in hell you're going to be walking around alone in the pitch black."

I would honestly rather die than step one foot into that car.

I take a step forward.

Embry's truck is different than Paul's; smaller and less flashly, less shiny things and a lot more noise. I usher into the passenger's seat and close the door behind me. I rest my head against the door and close my eyes for a moment, as I hear the engine roar to life as Embry pulls away.

"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice sounding numb, even to my own ears.

"That depends; where were you going before?"

"I wasn't going anywhere," I sigh. "I was just walking."

"Than we'll just drive."

I purse my lips. I have never experienced this before, this whole selfless act that Embry is partaking in. The more I think about it, the more I realize that this is a terrible idea. As much as I may like Embry, I truly do not know him, and now I am in a car with him in the middle of the night after he basically told me I have no other choice, driving off to the middle of nowhere.

My joints tense.

Defending myself was never my strong suit.

"Maybe you should just take me home," I squeak, quieter than I would have wished. I was hoping that I would be able to keep my fear on the down low, but just my voice is enough to alert Embry that something is wrong.

What follows is a brief period of extended silence, which only makes me more nervous. I begin twiddling with my fingers in my lap. It has been so long since anyone has hurt me; I know I can handle it, but I just don't necessarily know if I am prepared. I am more nervous than I usually get.

"You asked why I care," Embry begins, his voice deep and shocking in the quietness of my mind. "That's why."

Surprised, I look over at him out of the corner of my eye. "What's why?"

"You think everyone is going to hurt you."

My breath catches in the back of my throat as I blink rapidly a few times, sure that I am breathing. How had he even noticed? I make eye contact with him for just a second, but it is enough for him to nod his head and then for me to quickly look down at my feet.

My words sound numb even to myself; I don't even recognize my own voice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Embry looks out the side of his window for a moment before turning back to face the road. He doesn't respond, and I don't have any inclination to speak any further.

"You know Paul's mom kicked his dad out because he used to hit her."

An invisible fire immediately begins spreading through my veins. I feel all the color drain my cheeks.

He knows.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask blandly, trying to make sure that I keep any and all emotion out of my voice.

"Because," Embry sighs and then looks over at me, "You can tell him, you know. He'll understand."

"Tell him what?"

Embry gives me a condescending look and I gulp. "Come on, Scar."

My jaw tenses. "Don't call me that."

He actually looks offended. "Why not? Everyone else does."

"I don't even know you," I cross my arms overtop of my chest.

Embry rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever Scarlett."

I scrunch my forehead together in sudden confusion. "Well, don't get mad at me."

"You just told me we're not friends; why do you care?"

I roll my eyes. "You're being dramatic."

Embry laughs, and when I narrow my eyes at him he holds his hands up in a sort of sign of peace. "I'm sorry; I just don't think I've ever been called dramatic by anyone before."

I roll my eyes once again and try to press my lips tightly together to keep from laughing. Why am I laughing?

"Ugh!" I smack my hands against the seat and then angrily cross my arms again and sink down low into the seat. "This is so stupid!"

"What is?" He questions.

"Just, this! Why do I care so much about him? And why do I like his friends so much."

Embry shoots me a sly smile. "So you like me now?"

"Focus, Embry."

He sighs. "You know you could just stop fighting it and admit to yourself that you like the guy."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Just a thought," He clarifies.

"I don't even know if I like him though," I mumble.

Embry actually laughs. "Oh come on. Scar, anyone with eyes can see that you're crazy about the guy."

"How?" I exclaim. Embry looks at me like I am certifiable due to my sudden outburst. "Seriously," I continue, "How? How can you possibly see that? I want to know!"

"Alright," Embry sighs. "For one you blush every time the dude is in a five mile radius."

"I do not!" I exclaim.

"Yeah you do," Embry corrects me. "And you flirt with him… a lot."

"I do _not_ flirt with him!" I gasp, actually offended.

"Okay, say I believe you; want to explain the kissing now too or are you claiming amnesia on that too?"

I honestly believe I turn into an actual tomato. "You are such an asshole."

"Because I'm not playing into your idiocracy like Nessie?"

"I-wha-ugh! You don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Hey," Embry perks up. "Remember when you gave me your number _over_ Paul?"

I blink at him a few times. "You're nuts."

"I think you mean nice," He sighs. "Want some ice cream?"

"Ice cream?"

"Yeah, ever heard of it? It's basically cold ice that you flavor with,"

I smack his arm.

"Ouch! What the heck?"

"I know what ice cream is Embry! Just take me home."

"But I want ice cream."

"But I want to go home."

"Aren't we just a princess now?"

"Embry," I finally moan, and my frustration suddenly comes out in the form of an extremely frustrated cry. "I just had a very public freak-out. I am tired. I am cold. And I want to go home."

I bite the inside of my cheek and will myself not to cry _again._ God, I am such a walking ball of emotions today.

Embry reaches into the back seat and because I hadn't been expecting the movement, I lurch away from him as my muscles suddenly tense. I am as rigid as a board as I close my eyes and shake my head. What the hell is wrong with me? Paul's best friend isn't about to hurt me.

"Ugh, sorry," He mumbles quietly. I ignore him. "Here." Embry drops something huge and black into my lap and I stare down at it in confusion. After a second I just barely pick it up with my fingertips and hold it out in front of me.

"It's just a sweatshirt," Embry chuckles.

I drop it back into my lap. "Why?"

Embry gives me an annoyed and impatient expression. "Would you just put it on you psyco? Paul may murder me if he sees you in it so I am basically risking my own life to make sure you're warm."

I bite the corner of my lip but then do as I am told. As I slip the sweatshirt overtop of my head, what I immediately notice is how it doesn't smell like Paul. Embry doesn't smell bad, he just doesn't smell intoxicating like Paul does; for some reason, it makes me wish that it was Paul's sweatshirt.

"Embry?" I begin, my voice quieter and not holding any of my previous hostility.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I overreacted with Paul earlier?" I ask, although I know that I did.

It actually takes him a moment to form a response, which surprises me due to how bunt he has been throughout this entire, odd car ride.

"I think," Embry begins, holding out the words for too long for it not to annoy me. "I can't judge your reactions because I react differently to things than you do."

"So how would you have reacted?"

He raises his eyebrows at me. "If Paul had tried to feel me up? Yeah I think I would have tried to kill the guy."

I roll my eyes but can't help but laugh. "You are ridiculous," I giggle.

Embry smiles at me, and I suddenly realize what he has been doing this whole time; Paul's funny and quite frank best friend has somehow managed to break me from my depressed, self-loathing mood and did it without me even noticing.

"I don't get why you all like me so much." My eyes widen at my statement that I hadn't even meant to say out loud.

He lets out a long sigh. "We actually don't." He nods his head slowly. "Trust me you're not that special."

I giggle and roll my eyes.

"But seriously," Embry's voice takes on a more serious tone. "You're great, Scar, and you're great for Paul too. I think that's probably what it is; you're too good for him, but you're good _for_ him, does that make sense?"

"Not at all," I sigh.

Embry smiles a knowing smile at me, though I pretend not to notice. "Whatever you say."

Embry winds up taking us through a drive-through to get ice cream, and then driving me home. Although by the end we were engaging in casual conversation, I still feel slightly uncomfortable at the surprising act of selflessness; I don't understand it. Why hadn't he just let me walk home? It's not that I'm complaining, it's just that I am seriously confused.

"Alright," I sigh once he finally cuts the engine in my driveway. "Thanks for driving me."

"For driving you?" Embry laughs. "How about for accepting verbal abuse from you, multiple accounts of rudeness, paying for your food, ruining my Friday night."

"You know what you are such a jerk," I shake my head but wind up laughing. Embry joins in and I realize again that if I wasn't so entirely and completely obsessed with Paul I probably would like him.

"I take back my thank you," I roll my eyes as I step out of the truck.

"Welcome!" He calls out as I close the door. He waits until I am inside before he leaves.

I sigh once I see his taillights disappear down the road and then begrudgingly pull myself up to my room.

I feel stupid.

I feel embarrassed.

But I also feel like in all the reenactments and possible scenarios that keep running through my head, there is honestly no other way that I can imagine reacting. As odd as it sounds, when Embry said whatever the hell it had been about "I can't judge how you reacted because I react differently," it actually makes sense.

I just feel like I could beat myself up over how I reacted, or I could admit to myself that that is the _only_ way in which I know how to react. The truth is that I got scared, I got freaked out because he was drunk and because big, drunk men scare me and he was touching me and I panicked; I just wish that it wasn't in front of some of the only friends that I have.

I need a bath.

And a new personality.

And way less problems.

I sigh as I make my way up to my bedroom; today is really testing my patience; what had started as an exciting Friday night with Renesmee offering to bring me on freaking vacation ended in me crying in front of a huge group of people and running away in a moment of pure immaturity; no one probably even wants me to go anymore.

I make it only halfway up the staircase when there is a knock at the door.

My heart stops beating all-together.

It's _him_.

I am not sure how I know this, or why my mind immediately comes to this bizarre conclusion; I haven't heard from him in all the time I have been living in Forks; no calls, no texts, no checking up; nothing but complete silence, and I think that's why I know it has to be him- he would never just let me go that easily.

My feet hover on the staircase as I try to force my brain that has completely stopped working into action. I know I need to do something; to run, to lock myself in the bathroom or grab a weapon of some sort, no that that ever worked out, but I don't… I can't. I am stuck in a state of limbo in which I know I need to act but I am convincing myself that if I just wait long enough I will be proven wrong and then I won't need to do anything to protect myself.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and it causes me to jump back due to my state of hypersensitivity. I grab it out of my back pocket with shaking hands, nearly dropping it in the process, and then nearly press end in order to silence it; I'm not sure how he does it, but I swear sometimes he can hear things even from miles away.

Paul's name flashes across my screen. My response is so confusing because I honestly am so confused by it, but I don't even have to think; I greedily swipe to answer the only person that I want to help me.

"Paul," I speak, breathless, still not fully able to speak yet.

"Scarlett," He responds, his voice sounding semi-relieved but more-so upset. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry; could you please let me in?"

I drop the phone as every muscle in my body has the ability to relax. Oh my God. I let my back fall against the wall and hold my palm to my chest like some terrible Lifetime movie; it is Paul at the door.

It is not _him_.

I takes me about five deep breaths until I feel alive again.

Finally, I reach down and pick up my phone, hitting off before I even explain myself, and then open the door.

Paul nearly falls on top of me as I open the door, having not expected the movement, but then once he recovers, I think I may be more worried about him than before.

He looks terrible. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are red and he is sweating, like, really, _really_ sweating. He doesn't have a shirt on, not that I am complaining, and something happened to his shoes too, and he keeps rubbing his forehead like he is searching for words and hoping to just rub the sentences right into his head.

"Ugh," I can't help but stammer. "Are you okay?"

"Did I hurt you?" Paul grabs my shoulders and I gasp and jump back.

"Shit!" He yells and I cringe again. "I did it again."

I hear a howl off in the distance and quickly go to shut the front door with a shaking hand; I wouldn't want wild wolves to come in in the midst of all this shit.

"I'm not going to hurt her," Paul moans at the door. I look from him to the wood, and then back at him with a worried expression; I think he's having a nervous breakdown.

"Paul," I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Scarlett," His shoulders slump and that crazed look that had been in his eyes only moments ago completely dissolves as something else entirely fills his features. I am momentarily mesmerized by the emotion that I see behind his deep, green eyes. "I am so sorry, baby girl."

I melt into a puddle on the hallway floor.

"Y-you're sorry?" I question, my voice quieter than I would have liked. Although I hadn't confronted the slight panic in my chest until now, I realize that I had been just as worried about Paul realizing that I am way more emotionally damaged than he bargained for and not liking me anymore.

"Of course I am," He shakes his head at me in wonder. "I scared the shit out of you."

I bite the corner of my lip. "Well," I hold out the word; he did, but not for the reason that he thinks.

"Ugh," He rubs the top of his head roughly and then shakes his head again, harder this time. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so fucking sorry. I just- I was being an idiot. You just looked so good and I didn't even think."

I swallow harshly.

"It's okay Paul," I mumble, suddenly more embarrassed than anything. The truth is, he didn't really _do_ anything, and Embry's vague answer to my question in the car was only more truth to that. If I completely disregard my emotions about what happened, and just look at what actually did happen, all Paul did was play into what I was hinting at wanting. I flirted with him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him and when he was feeling me up I liked it; it wasn't over the top or raunchy or unwarranted; I loved the way his hands skimmed against my body; it was only until I kissed him, and his breath reeked of that all too familiar whiskey, that I completely freaked out.

"No it's not okay," He sighs angrily, at himself I propose. "I shouldn't have done that. That was so inappropriate."

I frown.

I swear I have multiple personalities disorder.

Isn't that what I wanted him to say?

So, why then, does it make me so upset.

"I promise that will never happen again," He tells me, more serious this time.

My stomach drops.

The thing is, I don't want him not to do that; I don't want him to think of me as this scared and broken little flower that isn't sexy and isn't ready and I want to keep flirting and touching and kissing Paul. I want him to know that I want him, too.

I bite the inside of my cheek and will myself not to cry… _again._ God almighty I swear I have never in my entire life cried more than I have in the timeline of knowing Paul Lahote.

What is wrong with me now?

"I'm just making you more upset," He of course senses my mood. "I'll just leave." He finishes more quietly.

Wait.

Panic surges through my veins at the speed of wildfire. That isn't what I want. _This_ isn't what I want; the only problem is that I have absolutely no idea in hell how to communicate what it is I want, because I don't even know; all I know is that I want him to know that I want him.

I stop thinking.

"Paul," I say quickly, just wanting him to stop; just wanting both of us to stop fucking _thinking_ so damn much.

He turns, his hand still on the doorknob, and I practically slam into him, only he is basically made of stone and I am not, so I am most likely the only one who felt the impact of that. Regardless, I press myself into him and don't even try to stop myself from falling against him as I push him up against the wall. I grasp his shoulders to hold him to me as I completely turn my brain off and just do what I want for a change.

He doesn't smell like whiskey anymore, doesn't taste like it either. He tastes like Paul and hell I need Paul and so I need his lips too. I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, my hair falling to the side of my face and his arms wrapping around my lower back and holding me so tight I am finding it hard to breathe. I am dizzy as he tangles his fingers in the back of my hair and I open my mouth for him.

God, I need him, and I need to show him how much.

I slide my shaking fingers down to his stomach and he moans into my mouth. I move them even farther, and when I have finally reached his waistband I begin unbuckling his pants.

Paul pulls me away from him quickly. "Scarlett," He says sternly. He is staring at me intently, though his lips are red and his cheeks are flushed. He is breathing heavy too.

My eyes remain wide as saucers as I stare at him and wonder what the heck he is going to say. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?" He questions, his hand still grasping a chunk of my hair.

"I-I'm showing you how much I like you touching me."

Paul's eyebrows raise. "Yeah, I think I already knew that sweetheart."

I sigh and bite the inside of my cheek. "I don't want you to think that I'm scared of you now; I don't want you to think I don't want that."

Paul gives me a condescending expression, though his eyes do soften. "I think you're missing the point here, Scar."

"What?"

He lets out a long sigh and then backs away from me. "Come here." He reaches for my hand and then pulls me to a small table against the wall. He lifts me easily and without warning and then sets me on it. My eyes widen. Okay, definitely not expected but I can surely run with it.

"Scarlett," He begins, grasping both sides of the side table as he leans towards me. "It's not about you being afraid to be physical with me; you can take as much time as you need for that." I think my cheeks turn into actual tomatoes. "The problem is _why_ you are scared of me."

My voice is merely a whisper. "What?"

"Scar," He begins, his tone pleading this time. "You've gotta give me some answers." After a few seconds of stunned silence he tries again. "Please?"

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. Paul cups the side of my face and I close my eyes at the heat that is radiating off of his skin and his fingers that are so, so soft.

"Open your eyes," He whispers.

I shake my head.

I hear him chuckle. "Please?"

I shake my head again.

"Can I ask why?" He sighs.

Finally, yet slowly none-the-less, I open them. His face is the first thing that I see, and that really isn't a bad thing. Embry's voice pops into my head " _You can tell him, you know,"_ I hear replayed over and over and over again. Yet I still… can't. What would I even say? How would I phrase it? In how much detail would I go into? Would it change how he felt about me? Or even worse, how he acts around me?

I swallow down whatever words I had been thinking of saying, for I know that they would.

"I'm sorry I embarrassed you today."

Paul looks sincerely confused. "What?"

I pull my face out of his grasp and then rest my back against the wall. Paul stares at me for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times as he contemplates speaking. I hold my breath until he finally lets out a breath of his own.

"I freaked out in front of all your friends," I continue.

Paul looks bewildered. "How in any way shape or form did this become your fault?"

I shrug. "I don't want you to stop doing that, though," I just barely manage to squeak and blush at the same time.

"Scarlett, you don't have to explain yourself. I was an ass; we're definitely not at the point where I can just grab you like that any time I want."

I frown.

"Are we at the point? He asks with wide eyes.

"No?" I respond, though my voice rises at the end; I honestly had no idea we were even on a path to a point.

"Scarlett," Paul lets out a long sigh. "You won't even go on a date with me."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Well dates are stupid."

"No they're not," He sighs again.

"I kiss you," I defend myself.

Paul can't help but crack a smile. "Yes you do, and though I really appreciate that, a lot of people kiss people who they aren't dating."

"Well not me!" My mouth drops. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

Paul laughs and sweeps a piece of my hair behind my ear. "An innocent one."

I choke on my heart in my throat. My face is on fire it is burning so terribly from a blush.

Paul smiles and cups my cheeks between his hands. He kisses me once, softly this time and not as deep or sexual or needy as before.

He pulls away so that his lips are just barely touching mine. I can feel his breath as he speaks, making me shiver. "Are you saying that you would like to date me, Scarlett?"

I blush again. "Ugh," I stammer with my words for a second. "Date is a strong word."

Paul slides his hands behind my waist and I bite my lip and focus my gaze on the floor, for I am embarrassed how much I like that. "What do you want then?" After a moment of silence Paul begins rubbing my back, still waiting for me to look at him. "What about if I called you baby girl, would you answer me then?"

My eyes immediately dart to his and my lips pull up into a wide grin that I just can't control.

He laughs and I let out a deep breath, releasing all my anxiety and just letting myself fall into Paul's shirt. I lift up, my head tilting back until my chest is pressed against his and then lastly lifting my head and coming face to face with him.

I wrap my arms around his neck again and he presses me closer by his hands on my back.

"I bet Nessie is going to un-invite me to Florida," I say sadly.

Paul shakes his head at me. "Don't be ridiculous. I got yelled at after you left."

I smile. "Good."

"Oh, question." Paul's gaze drops down lower, connecting his eyes with my sweatshirt, and then he frowns. "Where did you get this?"

I look down in confusion. "Oh," I suddenly remember. "Embry gave it to me."

He frowns even harder. "Embry?"

"Yeah," I begin slowly, confused that his best friend didn't tell him where he was going when he came after me. "He drove me home."

"Yeah I know," He mumbles angrily to himself, "But why are you wearing his clothes?"

I raise my eyebrows. "I was cold, Paul."

"Okay," He grunts. "You couldn't have put on a different sweatshirt?"

I roll my eyes. "Paul, stop being ridiculous. If anyone should be jealous it should be me."

He widens his eyes at me. "Are you jealous, Scarlett?"

I bite my tongue. "No."

"You can say it if you are," He coaxes gently.

"Well I'm not." I cross my arms.

"Good." Paul's hands slide to my sides. "Now take this off."

"Why?" I begin to protest, though he is already in the process of pulling it over my head.

"Because," He is smiling brightly one it is over my head and dropped on the floor. Paul hugs me tightly and then takes a deep breath of my neck, making me giggle. "I want to smell you, not Embry."

I chuckle. "Well I guess that is a good thing, actually."

"You know he likes you, right?"

"You are insane," My voice is shaky as he breathes against my neck.

"No I'm really not." Paul gently brushes his lips against my shoulder as he places a small kiss on my skin.

My breath catches in my throat.

"We're friends," I defend, closing my eyes.

"No," Paul sighs against my collarbone. " _We're_ friends _._ "

I smile. "We're not friends."

Paul picks his head up and then takes my face between his hands. He examines my face and I feel honestly so in-superior to his perfect eyes and face and muscles and bone structure.

"No we're not," He says softly. "But I want to be."

"Hm?" I kind of lost track of his words while I was too busy staring at his lips.

"Your friend," Paul clarifies. "I want to be your best friend, Scar."

I bite the corner of my lip. "I don't have best friends," I just barely whisper in a random moment of brutal honesty.

"Why not?" Paul whispers back, his voice just as hushed.

"Because," I struggle with my words. "Then I have to tell them my secrets."

Paul runs his fingers along the sides of my hair. "You have a lot of secrets, don't you, baby girl?"

I smile just a little bit, though the nickname still makes my stomach do somersaults. "I have too many," I just barely whisper back.

* * *

THOUGHTS!? Thank you so much for reading! Please review and follow for an update!


	12. Some Scary Shampoo

Hi everyone! Sorry this chapter is a little short; I promise to make up for it in the next chapter! It's kind of a filler before the big trip. Please let me know what you think and I hope you like it!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

School is pointless today. We leave for Florida in approximately 10 hours and 32 minutes, not that I am counting. I am honestly emotionally disturbed by how excited I am.

I have never been on vacation before, but even more than that, I looked up Naples beaches online, and I nearly broke my computer screen I was so captivated. If I like Forks beach so much, I can't imagine how I will feel about Naples beach.

My teacher rattles on in the background, though her voice is merely background noise to me.

Honestly, I just want to hangout with Paul.

I ignore my own thoughts that are thoroughly disagreeing with this terrible, terrible decision and open a new text as I hide my phone underneath my desk.

 _School is useless today. I was packing all night and didn't sleep- so tired and too excited._

I bite the corner of my lip and stare at the text; there is no way in hell that I should send anything remotely close to this.

I press send and then set my phone down in my lap as I try to focus on the gibberish on the board. Trying to figure this equation out is almost a good enough distraction to keep me from thinking about Paul.

As soon as I feel it vibrate against my thigh I have to force my muscles to relax a second so I don't panic and frantically yet accidentally chuck my phone across the room in my haste.

Paul's name flashes across my screen. I stare at the letters, at the way they all look together on the front of my cell phone and just bask in it for a second before I open it. When I finally do, I am surprised to say the least.

 _Want me to drive you home?_

I sigh and roll my eyes to myself. I would never, ever admit to this if brought onto any kind of stand, but a small part- no, a large part- of myself wanted him to offer to skip with me. I know he has a football game tonight, but aren't I worth more than a sporting event? I am sickened at my completely irrational and kind of totally insanely insane thought and mentally kick myself for becoming like those terrible and manipulative girls that I always hated.

 _No that's okay. Don't really feel like going home either. I guess I'll just suffer through this Chinese class they call math._

It takes him a lot shorter to respond this time.

 _Go to my apartment. Take a nap._

My eyes grow wide and for a moment I am temporarily frozen. I blink my eyes tightly together a few times and then re-read the message, surely I misinterpreted it somehow. Only, the more I read it the more evident his offer stands.

Paul Lahote just invited me over to his apartment. Paul Lahote just invited me to his apartment alone. What is going on? My immediate response is to say no, but then as my fingers begin typing, I realize that I actually have no desire to decline that offer. I don't say yes, instead, I say something a little bit safer.

 _Really?_

I bite my lip as I wait. My heart stops when the wait is over.

 _Key's under the mat._

Dead.

My heart starts being again when the teacher begins playing a video explaining something that I will honestly never understand. My fingers idle above the screen; what the hell am I supposed to do with this?

 _Seriously?_

I realize that was kind of pathetic, but I can't help but wonder if he's just kidding and I'm not getting the joke. I hit send before I have a chance to change my mind.

His response is immediate.

 _Yes, please Scar? :)_

The bell rings, and I have already made up my mind.

* * *

Paul's apartment looks different when I am walking up to it alone. I stare at the thick, wood door and yet again remind myself what a terrible idea this is; it's not like I'm dating the guy.

Of course, my hands don't listen to my head as I lean down and lift up the mat. Just like Paul said, there is a shining, silver key resting right underneath the corner. I bite the inside of my cheek nervously and then pick it up with a sigh. I stare at the way that it sparkles in my hand and then decide I can't do this.

No way.

Hell no.

What was I even thinking in the first place?

Fine.

I unlock the front door and then somehow find the will to step inside. I close the door behind me and flip on the light; it looks like how I remember, only different. There isn't that warmth that I have always aquatinted with Paul in his space, though there is a slight hint of it in everything surrounding me. I guess I realize that the warmth comes from Paul, not where he is at.

I drop my bag onto the ground and then nervously push it towards the very corner of the room; I don't want to invade his space or take advantage of his offer. His offer- what the hell even was that offer in the first place?

Oh yes, a nap.

I peer towards the couch and walk over to it. Paul's couch is warm and inviting and has a blanket that is perfect for cuddling up underneath and cushions that mold to my body. Although as hard as I try, and as tired as I am, I just can't seem to fall asleep.

This isn't what I want.

I hesitantly press my toes into the cold wood floor and press myself into a standing. I find my way up to his bedroom and then look around like I am totally confused how the hell I got here, like my feet didn't just move and I didn't just walk me here and oh wow, I am surprised that I am in Paul's room.

With shaking hands I walk towards his bed and then look down with sudden nervousness. _This is where Paul sleeps_ , I think with a blush. And then my face falls when I wonder if any other girls have slept here. I roll my eyes at myself and moan as I flop onto his comforter. Dear God he smells so good.

Cinnamon and warmth and Paul and cologne and Paul and laundry detergent and warmth and Paul and maybe even some sweat drowns my senses and bring me to the verge of a mental overload.

I am insane.

I am insane to come to his apartment alone. I am seriously insane to take a nap. And I am definitely insane to sleep _in his bed._

But I don't even care.

I pull the covers overtop of my head and then slide my body underneath the sheets. I bury myself in pure Paul and allow myself to drown just a little bit.

Just a few more hours and then I will be in Florida.

That is enough to put me right to sleep.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

She is in my fucking bed.

When I had gotten back from practice, I was sure she hadn't come- I mean, it's Scarlett we're talking about- but then I noticed her book bag by the door and came up to my room and now that perfect piece of blonde perfection in sleeping in my fucking bed.

Ugh.

Her face is buried in my pillow and her blonde hair is falling messily down her back and the skin of her lower back is poking out underneath of her shirt. One of her arms is underneath the covers while the other is strewn across the pillow.

I wonder how deeply my sheets will smell of her, and then I wonder if that at all will fade when we are on vacation- I make a mental note to never, ever wash those sheets again.

I know that I should probably just leave her be, but I can't help myself.

I climb on top of my bed and brush her hair off of her back and to the side. I press my lips to her bare shoulder and then smile into her ear. "Scarlett," I whisper, wanting to rouse her but not wanting to scare her- the last thing I want is for _another_ panic attack to ensue. Only, this time her lips are pulled up into a sleepy and content line, almost the faintest hint of a small grin on her face as she sleeps peacefully; something in my head is telling me that she is definitely not having a nightmare.

I shift my weight on the bed so that I am not holding myself directly above her, because that would surely scare her, and am a little bit off to the side.

"Mm," She mumbles sleepily, though she doesn't wake up. Fuck she is so sexy. So naturally sexy it should be illegal- she doesn't even try and yet here she is making me hard.

I gulp and swallow down the desire that I know she is not ready, and may never be ready, for. I kiss her shoulder again and then rub the bottom of my chin where my scruff is against her arm. "Scarlett?"

"Mmm," Scarlett repeats, though her voice is louder this time.

I chuckle into her skin and she turns sleepily. Scarlett whimpers rather adorably as she stretches both of her arms above her head and then lets out a long sigh. She rubs her eyes with the backs of her hands and then mumbles something incompressible. Finally she bats her eyelashes open- is this girl even real?

"Hi," I whisper, trying to make my tone extra gentle.

Scarlett blinks a few times, seeming rather confused for a moment before she yawns and then appears to just give up and wrap her tiny, little arms around my neck.

I chuckle and pull her tighter around me, pressing my hand into her lower back as I lower myself onto the mattress with her so that we are both side by side, facing each other.

"Did you have a good nap?" I ask her softly, gently grazing my fingertips up and down her back. The things that I do for Scarlett I have never done for any other girl before- I have never rubbed another girl's back without wanting anything in return, and I especially haven't grazed my fingertips along any part of someone unless she was naked. I just want to make Scarlett feel good, which is weird because all I ever cared about before her was making _me_ feel good. I think I may have seen Jake do this to Nessie once, which is why I am even doing this in the first place; regardless, Scarlett sighs contently and then buries her face deeper into my chest, so I imagine it is, in fact, making her feel good.

"What time is it?" She mumbles, a slight rasp to her voice.

I am spinning with how badly I want her.

I make sure to lean my hips back and away from her, just to be sure that she doesn't feel how excited she made me.

"Six," I tell her gently.

Scarlett's body freezes. She pops her head up and then rubs those beautiful, blue eyes again and blinks rapidly as she peers around my bedroom.

"Six?" She repeats, her voice still raspy but her voice less sleep-filled and more panicky now. I want to grab her by the waist and throw her underneath the covers and climb in after her and command her to not speak for at least an hour and to continue to cuddle on my chest, but thankfully I have just enough self-control left in me to stop myself from doing that.

"Yeah," I reply. "I just got back from practice."

She squints her gaze at me and then after a moment of staring, her lips pull up into a sheepish grin; Scarlett is embarrassed. Heat rises to her cheeks and she even presses her pointer finger into her mouth and nervously bites the tip of it.

Jesus fucking Christ woman- what are you trying to do to me?

I grunt as I force myself not to kiss her.

"I'm not sure why I slept that long," She begins to explain herself, although an explanation is the last thing that I care about or want or need to know; if Scarlett wants to sleep in my bed, hell she can sleep in it for whatever reason she can possibly come up with at all- anything in the universe or nothing at all will do. "I packed late and was too excited to sleep."

I can't help but smile. "You're excited?"

Her turquoise eyes widen. "Of course!"

"Right," I laugh. Scarlett never responds the way I think she will for about 95% of all situations, yet when she actually does, it is like she is shocked that I had been expecting differently. Sometimes I don't even think that she understands what is going on inside her mind.

I drop my head, not even caring if this is too forward or not okay to do when she is fully conscious, and kiss her gently on her collarbone. I faintly hear her breath catch in her throat and grit my teeth; I don't think I can hold out for much longer before I explode, the sight of Scarlett in my bed pushed me over the edge.

I pick my head up and then stare back at her. Her lips are slightly parted and her face is flushed and her cheeks are red and her eyes are staring directly at mine. Fuck. This picture is something that I had imagined countless times, but my memory does no justice to the real thing. Scarlett is so fucking beautiful and sexy at the same time it kind of seems like it should be illegal.

I want to kiss her- no, I need to kiss her. I need to kiss her so damn bad but I am honestly so confused if I should. The one time I had let myself get lost in her she had pushed me away like I was about to rape her and ran away, but then an hour later she was pushing me up against the wall and trying to take my pants off. I had come to the conclusion that it must have been the alcohol; that is the only explanation that makes sense, but then it also could be that she wasn't scared the second time because she initiated it.

I bite my cheek so hard that I taste blood and readjust myself; it feels like I am going to rip through my pants- thank God I don't have jeans on. The only problem is that with these shorts, there is no way she wouldn't be able to see the giant bulge making its presence very known.

"How was school today?" I ask with a pained voice, trying to distract myself.

Scarlett tilts her head to the side and I watch the movement with a meticulous amount of admiration.

"Absolutely terrible," she responds bluntly.

I have to laugh at how utterly pessimistic and absurdly sarcastic she is some of the time- it is a stark contrast to the childlike youth and sunshine that engulfs her face and body language the other half of the time. "It was terrible?" I push, "really scar?"

She nods her head. "The worst day of the year I think."

"Well that does sound terrible," I gently swipe some hair out of her face and am happy when she doesn't wince. "What happened?

She sighs. "Nothing particularly terrible-enduring; just an overall terrible day."

I chuckle. "Did you get flirted with extra hard this morning or something?" I ask this as a joke, but I know that Scarlett must get a lot of attention from men, high school boys in particular, hell, I've seen it!

She rolls her eyes. "No, Paul," she sighs. "And why would that bother me exactly?" She challenges.

I force myself not to react like I want to; I want to grab her and growl that she is mine and make her say it back. I grip the sheets tightly in my hands. The only thing stopping me is the way that her lip is pulled up at the corner, her expression innocent yet scandalous; she knows exactly what she is doing.

"Well I had a good practice today," I tell her softly as I run my fingers through the bottom of her hair.

"You did?" She smiles brilliantly and I realize how much I like her teeth, although that is a weird thought. Scarlett drops her hands so that they are at my collar and then rubs her fingertips along the collar. "Did you yell at anyone?" She asks just a little too brightly.

"Yes," I play along, smiling widely at her as I do so. "Very loudly."

"Good," she smiles devilishly.

I giggle. "You are evil, you know that?"

"Yes," she responds immediately. "Will you make me food Pauley?"

I raise my eyebrows. "What did you just say?"

Scarlett's eyes widen so large I find mine widening as well. Her cheeks redden immediately and I can't help but smile down at them. Scarlett is so easy to blush it is fucking adorable; I wonder how red her cheeks were to get if I ever actually did anything beyond the fabric of her clothes.

"Nothing," she mumbles as she drops her eyes to her fingers and begins messing with my collar.

"Scar," I try to make my tone gentle as I reach for her fingers to idle her movement. "You can call me that if you want, sweetheart."

Scarlett's cheeks redden again, although that may have more to do with me calling her "sweetheart" than anything.

"Really?" She asks, her face an actual tomato as she is biting her cheek.

"Yeah," I smile. "I don't mind."

She bites the corner of her lip. "I'm sorry; It just kind of came out."

"That's okay Scarlett," I tell her gently. "You can call me whatever you want?"

Scarlett giggles embarrassingly. "Really?"

"Ugh, yes!" I laugh and tickle her sides just enough for her to squeal a little bit. "I call you Scar."

"Yeah, well, everyone calls me that now." She rolls her eyes.

"Maybe everyone will start calling me Pauley?" I can't help but laugh at the thought, even though I am trying to pretend to be serious.

Scarlett bursts into laughter and I stare at how ridiculously perfect it is. How does one talk sexy and laugh like a little girl?

"Would you really want Embry calling you Pauley?"

I chuckle. "That may be a little creepy."

"I'll have to come up with something else," she rolls her eyes. "Although I must admit I like Lahote."

"I like Lahote too," I tell her honestly.

"Great," she lets out a long breath. "So, can you make me food, please... Lahote?"

I roll my eyes but kiss her on the cheek, dangerously close to her mouth, as I pull myself off of her. "Demanding little thing."

She giggles but I quickly turn, concealing my boner so that it doesn't freak her out. I exit the room and then pop my head back in. "Any requests?"

"Surprise me!" She says with a moan as she stretches out on the bed and falls down onto the mattress.

"Ugh," I moan and close the door, resting my forehead against the wood. I seriously can't handle this anymore.

The girl can't come to my house, sleep in my bed, get her hair all sexily tousled, bite the tip of her finger and then moan and expect me to remain respectful.

I can't do it anymore.

I go down into the downstairs bathroom, run the water, and quickly relieve myself.

* * *

"Hey Lahote?"

Scarlett pops her head into the kitchen as I am working at the stove making us burgers.

"Hi," I tell her happily, waving the spatula in the air. I can't believe I am about to spend a solid four days with this perfect girl out of the state.

"Can I use your shower?" She asks shyly as she rests her cheek against the entryway.

I choke on something invisible but she just bats those long, dark eyelashes at me. "U-ugh. S-sure." I clear my throat. "I-it's just-, ugh." I drop the spatula and wipe my palms on my shorts. "I'll show you," I tell her.

Naked Scarlett is about to be in my shower.

I can't breathe.

I walk her up to my bathroom and then grab a towel for her. I hand it to her and she hugs it to her chest with a small smile and thanks me quietly. "So left for cold right for hot but ugh, I'm sure you know how to use a shower," I begin to explain. She giggles and nods her head. What the fuck- really Paul? "A-and ugh there's soap in there and you can use whatever you want." I really struggle through that sentence when I think about her running the same bar of soap that I use on my body down her bare chest. I grow hard again in an instant.

"Oh and shampoo. You need shampoo right?" I click my fingers.

"Yes shampoo would be preferable," Scarlett teases.

I roll my eyes and then open the cabinet under my sink. If memory serves me right there is an old bottle of shampoo down-

"Aha!" I pull out some women's shampoo and proudly hold it out to her, feeling lucky. "I thought I had something."

Scarlett appears confused for a second before she reaches out and takes the bottle. She scans the label quickly before her face completely falls from a smile to a frown. Her eyes dart up to mine and then back down at the shampoo- she does not look happy.

"Scar?" I ask, obviously confused. Does she not like that kind of shampoo?

"Whose is this?" She asks after a few seconds, her tone flat and her stare blank.

I blink a few times. What the fuck is wrong with me?

"I don't know," I shrug, trying to make it appear like not a big deal so that she doesn't get upset.

"You don't know?" She raises her eyebrows- bad idea Paul. "What," She begins, her lip pulling up into a sort of snarl. "Is this like the community shampoo that you keep for when girls sleepover?"

I wince and then recoil from the comment. "Nice, Scar," I mumble to myself and then change my footing.

She stares at me, her expression calculatingly neutral. "I'm not being a bitch I'm just actually curious."

I roll my eyes, because I know that she is, in fact, being bitchy. "No it's not. Someone left it here."

"Well who?" She pushes.

"I don't know, Scarlett," I let out a long sigh. I should have just told her I didn't have any shampoo.

"Oh well why don't you just smell it," She suggests, her eyes still blank with invisible anger. "You'll probably be able to remember the girl you fucked whose hair smelled like this."

Scarlett throws the shampoo bottle at me and I just barely duck out of the way. She turns so that her back is to me and then crosses her arms overtop of her chest.

What the fuck?

I stare at her in shock, never actually having heard her talk about sex quite so bluntly before, and then immediately hating myself for upsetting her so much.

"Scarlett," I take a hesitant step forward. Moments like these are when I know that she isn't being honest about how she feels about me; hell, the girl just chucked a shampoo bottle at me because it belonged to some other girl that I can't even remember the name of. "I seriously didn't mean to upset you. It's just shampoo."

She scoffs. "And what makes you think I want to smell like some girl you hooked up with?"

"Scarlett," I begin.

"Does that not bother you?" She demands, turning on her heal and matching her gaze with mine. I can see now that her eyes are growing glassy with tears. Fuck, you know Paul, if I could just get through a week without making her cry I would really be happy with myself. "That I would smell like another girl."

Okay, quite honestly, I think her argument is quite insane. If Scarlett had some left-over shampoo left over I don't even think I would question it; it's _shampoo_ ; but the thing that I can't ignore, is that she has validity behind her worry.

"I like how _you_ smell," I tell her gently as I rub my thumbs against the sides of her cheeks and hold her face steady so that she has to keep looking at me. "Honestly I didn't even think about it."

Scarlett's forehead crinkles. "How?" She asks, her voice teetering on disbelief.

I shrug. "You needed shampoo. Honestly, I was happy I had some for you; that's it."

She huffs. "Had some from some other girl."

"Scar," I sigh and slip my arms around her waist. "I'm about to freak you out, okay?"

Her eyes widen. "What?"

I ignore her and continue. "You are the only girl that I want." Her mouth parts and I swear she may have stopped breathing. "Not any girl from school, or any girl who left her shampoo here, or any girl that I hooked up with before. I want _you_."

Scarlett stares blankly at me for so long that finally I wave my hand in front of her face, which seems to break her from her trance. "Y-you mean you want to hookup with m-me?" She quivers.

I roll my eyes. "No Scarlett I don't want to hook up with you," I moan, for I must be complaining this so, totally wrong if that is the moral she got from it. "I want to _be with_ you."

"W-w-what does that mean?" She stammers.

I contemplate softening my words and catering to her obvious fear, but then I stop myself; the only way for her to stop freaking out every time the mention of a female is brought up is if I tell her the truth. Here goes nothing. "I want to date you, Scarlett." I think her heart stopped. "Only you. I've never dated anyone before, and I want to date you."

My admission hangs in the air like a wrecking ball as I watch the five stages of grief flash across her face. "You okay?" I ask after a moment.

Scarlett peers up at me, her eyes wide but her mouth gnawing on itself, nervous. I reach for her face and cup her soft skin between my hands. I kiss her once, softly, and although I can tell she is a little too freaked out to really lose herself in the kiss, she kisses back.

I let go of her face, not waiting for her to respond, and then go towards the back of the room towards the shampoo bottle. I pick it up off the floor and then hold it out to her. "It's just shampoo, baby girl."

Scarlett bites her lip, and I can tell that she is trying to remain impassive to her favorite nickname; I didn't mean to guilt her into accepting my apology, but I just want her to understand that all the girls in my past mean absolutely nothing now; they are dirt compared to her, even though that sounds awful it is the truth.

She takes the shampoo in her tiny, fragile hands and then twists it around, examining it. "Do you know who's it is?" She asks finally, her voice timid and shy as she peers up at me from beneath her lashes.

I hate seeing her insecure. I reach out and press a piece of hair behind her ear, only slightly hurt when she winces at the unexpected movement. "No."

She bites the inside of her cheek. "You probably could figure it out if you thought about it."

"Scarlett," I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "I said no."

"But why?" She pushes.

"Because it will hurt you."

Once my admission is out I realize how honest it is, and from the way that she recoils and then sets the stupid shampoo bottle on the counter and looks towards the ground I realize that I would take it all back right at this very moment if I could; I never understood until now what the problem was with it; I never cared until her, and now I can't _stop_ caring.

"So I know her?" She asks with full, drenched and soaked pain seeping from her voice.

I reach for her and pull her to my chest. "Scarlett," I whisper into her ear. "You are the only girl I want. You." Honestly, I don't even remember who left the shampoo bottle, though the odds of Scarlett having crossed paths with her in this small of a town are very high.

She sighs into my chest and then finally nods her head. "Okay," She whispers after a moment.

"Okay?" I repeat, hopeful.

"Okay," She sighs again. "I'm sorry I threw it at you."

I bite back a smile. "Your fight is one of my favorite things about you."

Scarlett stiffens. She presses herself closer to me and then takes a long, deep breath of my shirt; I can't help but revel in it. "I'm not a fighter, Paul," She says suddenly, her voice quiet and muffled and... broken.

I hug her tighter to me and she wraps her arms around my back. "What do you mean Scar?"

She pulls away from me and then sighs. "I need to take a shower." After moment she adds, "please".

I nod my head and then slide the shampoo towards her. "Please wash your hair and don't think anything crazy. Please," I add, just like she had. She rolls her eyes but nods her head.

About twenty minutes later Scarlett finds me in the kitchen. Her food is ready and awaiting her, but she makes a point of coming up to me and giving me a tight hug before she goes to sit down. Her hair is wet and when I lean down to smell it, it smells exactly like me. I laugh to myself but choose not to comment; Scarlett had used my body wash instead of the shampoo; it makes me admire her even more.

Her eyes widen when she sits down and takes the giant burger in front of her in. I laugh, openly now, and she picks it up and takes a huge bite.

"How is it?" I ask.

Scarlett pretends that her eyes roll into the back of her head and then falls back against the chair. I stare at her, and pretend like she is in bliss for an entirey different reason, and then try to morph that face right there with the picture of her in my bed this morning.

I think I need to lock myself in the bathroom again.

* * *

Yay! Hope you liked it! Next chapter will be the start of the trip and I have a TON in store for that. Please follow and favorite if you haven't and leave a review for an update! xoxo


	13. Making Waves

Hi everyone! So it is mid-exam week and I got the flu. While that may not be the best for my grades there really isn't anything else to do other than watch movies and write, so this is very good for you all! Enjoy and please let me know how you like it!

Disclaimer: One of the scenes in this chapter is based off of a movie ;) If you guess it let me know, it'll be fun to see if any of you catch it!

 **Scarlett's POV**

Heat presses into my shoulders and lulls me from my deep sleep. I mumble as I roll over in bed; it can't be time to awake already.

"Scarlett," I faintly hear a soft voice whisper.

I feel Paul's fingers brush against my cheek and I smile sleepily to myself. I could honestly wake up every morning like this. The thought alone is enough to wake me up, for it came out of nowhere.

I flip from my stomach onto my back and blink my eyes open to connect my eyes with a familiar and beautiful set of green ones.

"Hi Lahote," I try to say clearly, though my voice comes out raspy and hoarse.

Paul's face breaks out into that wide, childlike grin and I just can't help myself. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up so that I can rest my chin in the curve of his neck. Paul rubs my back as he holds me close to him.

I sigh into his skin and let my eyes close again.

After a few minutes Paul pulls me back down amidst my serious protests in the form of moans.

"Paul," I complain with a long sigh. "I'm sleeping."

Paul chuckles. "We're going to miss our flight."

I sigh. "Good."

I slide my hands down from his neck to the mattress, only, on my descent down, something overcomes me that I can't quite explain. My fingers slow and my palms take their time as I slowly rub my hands down Paul's thick arms.

I feel Paul stiffen beneath my touch, and immediately my hands drop to the mattress. I feel heat rise to my cheeks as I open my eyes again and nervously set them on his collar. "Sorry," I mumble, biting the corner of my lip and wishing that I could sink down into the comforter.

"Scarlett," Paul begins, his voice surprisingly breathless; it makes me lift my eyes to connect them with his. Is it possible that he reacts the same way to my touches as I do to his? "You never need to be embarrassed with me."

I wish I could cater the way that my voice rises at the end in surprise. "I don't?"

Paul laughs. "Of course not. If you want something, all you have to do is ask."

I actually think so much blood rushes to my cheeks that I may explode.

Paul laughs and swipes the back of his fingers across my cheeks. " I have something for you," He whispers, leaning down to brush his lips against my cheek.

It takes a beat for me to answer. "Me?"

"No," He chuckles. "The other girl in my bed."

I roll my eyes. "I really wouldn't be surprised."

"Don't be mean, Scarlett." He kisses the curve of my jaw and I bite the corner of my lip and try to keep my breathing under control.

"I-I'm sorry," I struggle with the words.

"Don't be sorry," He sits up and ruffles the top of my hair, forcing an annoyed smack of his hand from me. "I like that you're sassy."

"I am _not_ sassy," I huff.

"Yes you are." Paul stands and just then I notice the way that his muscles stretch the fabric of his tight tee-shirt, and the way that his chest ripples with the slightest of movements.

Paul opens his dresser and then pulls something tiny and square and black out. My eyes widen. "I got a call that it was ready and picked it up while you were sleeping."

"No thank you."

Paul laughs and then he shakes his head. "Yes."

He sits down on the edge of the bed and I sit up in a panic, my back against the headboard. "No."

"Scarlett," Paul sighs. "You don't even know what it is yet."

I eye the box with suspicion. "Something scary."

"Not at all," He holds it out between us and my eyes widen at the sharp lines and black, shiny bow. "I promise."

My eyes dart up to his and then back down to the box. With numb fingers I reach out and grab it. "What is it?"

"Open it and you'll see."

I don't move.

"Scarlett?" Paul's fingers brush against the corner of my lips and I peer up at him beneath my lashes. "You don't have to be scared. I swear it's not an engagement ring." His voice cracks in a laugh at the end and it breaks the tension. I giggle and pull the thick ribbon, letting it fall on top of the covers as I reach for the lid.

An even smaller fabric box falls into my lap and my mouth drops. I swear I start having a low-grade panic attack. "Umm," I stammer with a squeaky voice.

"Okay." Paul grabs the jewelry box from my lap and then opens it up, pulling something silver and shining into his palm, for his fingers are probably too big to hold it without it falling. "Perhaps I should have just put it in a bag."

I giggle nervously. "Perhaps."

Paul reaches for my hand and then places it palm up. He drops the sparkling piece of jewelry into my hand and I slowly bring it up to my face. There is a small, silver ring staring back at me. When I tilt my hand just a little bit, something blue catches the corner of my eye.

With newfound confusion, I pick the delicate piece of jewelry up and hold it in front of my face. It is in such an odd shape; at first I can't tell what it is, but then after a moment the blue and the silver and the shape all collide into one perfect moment of realization.

My lips pull up into an uncontrollable wide smile. I peer up at him to see his eyes shining brightly; he seems to be just as excited that I understood as I am to actually understand.

Paul got me a ring in the shape of a wave, with a thin strip of shining light blue running along the entire base, all the way around the edge of the wave.

"Do you like it?" He asks, rather shyly.

My mouth drops. "Are you insane?" I accidentally blurt. Paul appears slightly startled for a second and I realize how that may have come out. I throw myself against him wince just a little bit when he is much harder than I expected. "I love it!" I exclaim into his chest. "Thank you. Thank you!"

Paul laughs and holds me to him. "I'm very glad you like it."

"Like it?" I pull away from him yet keep my grasp on his shoulders. "Paul," My mouth opens to say what my brain can't make words for. "I- I love it."

"Yeah?" He places a piece of hair behind my ear and I bite the center of my lip. Paul smiles and swipes his finger down my mouth.

"Yes," I giggle. "It's beautiful."

Paul reaches for the ring out of my hand. "Let me see your hands."  
I hold the out in front of him, ready and ridiculously excited. Paul connects his eyes with mine and then shakes his head and laughs; he seems almost, surprised. "Where do you want it?"

"Ugh, I don't know," I chuckle. "I've never had a ring before."

"Hmm." Paul examines my hands for a moment before a small smile fills his lips. Paul reaches for my right hand and then slips it onto my ring finger. It fits perfectly, and once it is on I hold it up and try to understand how this is actually my hand with this beautiful ring.

I tilt my hand in the dull light of the lamp next to the bed and it sparkles a beautiful shade of something I am not quite sure I have ever seen before. It does scare me, but this time it is for something much different. I look from the ring, back to Paul and then back to the ring; it is the way his eyes are shining and his mouth is pulled up at the corners and how I want _so badly_ for this to work but I know that I won't be able to.

I bite the inside of my cheek and will myself not to do what I know is coming. I stand abruptly and walk towards the edge of the room.

"Scarlett?" Paul asks, his voice clearly shocked.

I tuck my hands my hands to my sides and take sharp, quick breaths, forcing myself not to cry.

"Scarlett," Paul repeats, standing up and walking over towards me. "What's wrong?"  
I turn, suddenly facing him and just not ready, though seeing this ring and the way that Paul loved that I loved it, it changes things; I can't stop myself.

"I'm not what you want," I speak finally, my voice not tearful but rather pleading with him to understand.

"What? No, Scarlett, you are everything that I want," He reaches for me and I pull away.

"No please," I pull my hands back, "I just, I just need some space."

I take a hesitant step back and he takes one forward.

"Don't do this. Just give it a chance," He demands.

"I just need to think for a second!" I scream, placing my palm to my head and then taking a few short, quick breaths.

Paul's shoulders slump and he takes a few steps back until his legs hit the end of the bed. He sits down and stares towards the floor, and suddenly I hate myself; I hate myself for having to ruin this. I can't quite explain it, but I know I need to fix this.

I slowly walk towards him, though once I am there he doesn't stand up, he doesn't even look up. I drop to my knees and reach for his hands.

"Look at me," I say quietly. Paul's eyes are surprised as I take on the gentle tone that he usually uses with me. "I know that you say that you want me, and I know that you tell me that you like me just the way that I am, but there are certain things that you deserve, that I will _never_ be able to give you. And it may be okay for right now, b-but what's going to happen when you realize that this is all I am ever going to be able to give?"

Paul shakes his head. He presses his hand to my cheek as I stare directly at him. This, I think, is the most intimate we have ever been, and we're barely touching. "I want you. You're all I am ever going to want."

I shake my head and pull away from his too warm touch. "But how do you know?" I plead. "How can I believe you? I don't even understand myself I don't even-,"

"Talk, Scarlett. I promise everything will be okay if you just tell me. Talk to me, please."

I press my lips together and look towards the floor. My head is saying no but everything else in my entire body is saying yes. I want to fall into him, to forget about this innate desire in me to push everyone and everything out and just let myself be _with_ him. I want to, I want to so badly it consumes me, but there is something tucked deep inside of me that isn't letting me say the words, that won't allow me to say anything at all.

"I want to," I finally blurt out. The tears that I had been pushing back condense in the corners of my eyes and then stream down my face in complete and utter frustration. "I do, I really, really do, but I can't I-,"

"Give me your hand." Paul reaches for my hand and then slips it beneath his shirt. He places it overtop of his heart as I fight back tears. "This is me," He says, his eyes pleading with mine to believe him. "This is _yours_. I am all yours."

I let out a sob and then climb into his lap. I press myself tightly against him and feverishly press my mouth to his. I need him; I _need_ him. I grab fistfuls of his short hair and press him closer to me. All that I am thinking about is him.

Paul grasps my waist and then buries his fingers deep into my hair. My head is spinning and blackness is beginning to spot beneath my lashes. I pull myself away from him and gasp in a breath, breathing heavy as I tilt my face towards the ceiling and push myself into you.

His lips kiss my neck and I gasp. He- no, _no one_ has ever kissed me like this before. My back arches without my permission and I fall closer into him. I'm not sure when I stopped crying and when I started getting turned on but suddenly all I can think about is his lips on my neck.

He sucks on the skin between my chin and neck and I gasp, my heartbeat so fast that I can hear it in my ears. Everything is spinning. I am spinning. We are spinning. My heart is spinning.

I reach behind my back to grab his hand and then slide it to my front and beneath my shirt. I can feel his hand, slowly but surely grazing my skin as he moves it up my stomach. I breathe deeply into his mouth as I kiss him again and then I shiver when his fingers are so close to my bra that I am quivering in anticipation for-

"Paul let's go!"

I gasp and throw myself off of Paul, my eyes wide and my hair everywhere and my shirt halfway off of my body. There are three loud pounds followed by some more yells.

"Ugh," Paul rubs the corner of his jaw and I notice his hands shake slightly as he slowly stands up. He is breathing just as heavily as I am. Paul rubs his hands on his jeans before walking towards me. He smiles at me and rubs the side of my arm on his way, though he keeps walking past me.

I turn in confusion, only to see him holding his phone up. There is no denying the entire front screen filled with missed calls.

"Shit," He mumbles, placing it down and then looking around the room with a slight panic.

"Ugh, you ready?"

"Ready?" My brain still isn't working properly.

Paul's mouth breaks out into a wide smile. "For the trip?"

"Oh, right!" I pop up, my brain seeming to kick back into overdrive. "Florida. Y-yeah I just need to ugh, brush my hair or- ugh, something."

Paul presses his lips together to keep from smiling. I ignore it. Thankfully though, he doesn't say anything; I really don't think my young heart could handle being made fun of for how obviously out of it I am after being pulled so abruptly from our intense make out session.

"Alright," Paul sighs and seems to have himself under control again- must be nice. "I'll bring the bags out. Where's your suitcase?"

"Hm?" I ask, my mind elsewhere.

"Suitcase?" He holds the word out slowly.

"Oh!" I shake my head. "Car. In my car- no, I mean, Jacob's car. I- I left it in Jacob's car this morning."

"Okay," Paul laughs and then reaches for his suitcase next for the bed and heads towards the stairs where I can still hear someone, perhaps Jared, calling after him. Paul places his hand on my waist and then pulls me in to kiss my cheek, slowly yet firmly.

I bite my lip and rest my head against his chest with a sigh. "Meet me downstairs when you're done?" He rubs his fingertips up and down my back.

I sigh and pull away. "Yes sir," I try to smile though it doesn't really happen.

Paul strokes his finger along my lower lip. "Everything is fine, Scar. Don't worry."

Now I actually do smile. "I know. I'm just- ugh- I just need a second to- ugh, relax."

Paul's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up. "Oh," He pulls his hand away and is obviously trying extremely hard not to laugh.

I roll my eyes and stomp away from him.

"Don't be too long," He laughs loudly as I slam the bathroom door. In the bathroom mirror, my cheeks are much, _much_ redder than I thought and my hair is strewn all over the place. My lips are rosy and my eyes are wide and I hadn't realized it but I am still breathing like a maniac. Dear God. I grip the edge of the bathroom sink and try to get a handle on my hormones and emotions; what the hell just happened?

* * *

By the grace of God we somehow make it onto that flight.

I fall into my seat against the window let out a long breath; we had all practically sprinted. Thankfully, the panicked pounding on the door hadn't actually been our fault; the flight was pushed up an hour and Paul, Nessie and me were all a-wall. While Paul and I were, ugh, _occupied_ , Nessie was fast asleep. While Jared and Kim came to retrieve us, Quil and Jacob went to get Nessie, and here we all are.

I snuggle into the seat as Paul takes his seat next to mine and shoots me one of those grins that makes me have to force myself not to smile back. This time, I don't.

He reaches for my hand and then entwines our fingers, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it.

"We made it," I smile timidly as I rest my head against the seat.

"Barely," He laughs and I giggle.

"You know what this plane ride is perfect for?" Paul begins with that terrifying devilish grin. Oh no.

"Should I even ask?"

"Talking."

My eyes widen and he laughs and squeezes my hand before letting me go. "I'm kidding; don't give yourself an aneurysm sweetheart."

I roll my eyes. "You know what we could _actually_ do?"

Paul raises his eyebrows and then pretends to check around the plane. "Right here? I don't know it's kind of public Scar but if you really want to I guess we could…"

"You are the worst!" I playfully smack his chest and he laughs like a malicious little boy. "What I was _going_ to say," I narrow my eyes at him. "Is that you could help me pick a sport."

"A sport?" He actually seems quite shocked.

"Well yeah," I giggle uneasily. "I have put it off long enough. If I keep along this route I'm going to get fat."

Paul laughs but shakes his head. "I thought you had no intention of making friends with anyone at Forks. You realize that when you join a sport here you will be permanently placing yourself here. You can't run, you can't hide, you can't move to a new state and make some other guy crazy about you just to leave again."

I roll my eyes. "Stop it, Paul."

He smiles. "I'm kidding, Scarlett."

"No you're not," I sigh. "It's not that I don't want to make friends here," I tell him as I sit back in my seat. "It's not that at all, actually."

Paul raises his eyebrows and purses his lip. "Yeah?" I can tell that he doesn't buy it one bit.

I shake my head. "Yes actually," I say with a roll of my eyes. "I just," I pull my foot up into the seat and try to figure out how to say this so that it comes out correctly, which is definitely not a strong suit of mine. "I spent so much time playing sports and making friends and keeping up appearances at my old school and I just, I wanted it to be different here."

Lines form between Paul's eyebrows as he tries to understand my messed up logic. "Why?" He asks softly.

I sigh. "Well, I- I guess I never wanted to be alone." My voice fades towards the end and I lift my gaze to connect with his. I am not usually ever this honest, but for the first time in my life I want to be. I can't tell him about _him_ , but I can tell him about other things.

Paul holds my gaze for a moment, his eyes deeper than safe but I don't care anymore.

"And you want to be alone now?" He asks softly. Paul reaches over and takes my hand, such a gentle movement as he begins stroking his thumb across my bare skin. I stare at it for a moment and find myself wondering how the hell this happened.

"Not alone," I struggle to find the right words. "I'm comfortable with a lot of people around. I can kind of fade into the background and be friends with them but not close enough to actually let them _in_. Coming here I just didn't want to do that anymore, you know? It's… fake."

Paul squints his eyes for a second. "Than don't you think it's the other way around, hun?"

I frown. I actually had never thought of it that way before.

Suddenly Paul smiles a small smile that makes me want to kiss him and pulls my hand into his lap, pulling me along with it. I rest my cheek against his shoulder as he kisses my forehead. I don't even care about anyone watching as he wraps his arm around my back and holds me to him. I sigh contently and close my eyes.

"Don't think I don't realize how much it took for you to tell me that." Paul's voice is just a whisper in my ear, and it makes me shiver. I bite the corner of my lip to keep from smiling.

"So do I get something for that?" I whisper back, my voice braver than I expected it to be.

I can physically sense Paul's intrigue. "I'll repay you later, don't you worry."

I blush. "I'm thinking soccer."

"Hm?"

I tilt my head up so that my chin is resting on my chest and he is looking down at me. "For a sport."

"Right," Paul sweeps some hair out of my eyes. "That's fine… as long as you promise to wear clothes during it."

* * *

Thoughts!? I don't know about you all, but I feel as if this was an emotional turning point for Scarlett; at least she admitted that she actually does want to be with him, but doesn't know how.

Please let me know what you all think! Review and follow!


	14. Ocean Blue

**UPDATE: from here the story kind of takes off and gains some momentum. I know it has been slow without a lot of new info being learned, but I honestly feel like to be true to Scarlett and her character, it had to be that way! From here on out everything that I have planned for the story kind of all follow each other with a bang, so please sit back and enjoy the ride! I can't wait for you all to read!**

As always, thanks for reading... You guys rock! xoxo

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I pull Scarlett's sleeping body tighter against me and then kiss her forehead. She slept all flight, her perfect, little head rested against my chest as my arm was around her back. After about five minutes I asked for a blanket for her and she didn't even notice as I draped it overtop of her and tucked it into her upper arms to make sure that it didn't fall off.

The flight attendant's voice comes on through the loudspeaker followed by hustle and bustle of everyone getting up from their seats. "Scar," I whisper into her ear, running my fingers through her soft, blonde hair.

She stirs but doesn't wake. I smile to myself; Scarlett is exceptionally adorable right after a nap, especially because she can't seem to bring herself to ever actually wake up.

"Scarlett," I say again, and finally, those big, blue eyes open and she blinks them a few times at me, slightly confused as she adjusts to the light.

"Where are we?" She asks sleepily, that slight rasp hinting at the corners of her voice, the same rasp that turns me on so damn much. Scarlett rubs her eyes with the backs of her hands as I pull the blanket off of her.

"Florida!" I answer back enthusiastically, hoping that this will get her moving.

"Mm, that's nice." She settles back in her seat and then closes her eyes again.

"Scarlett," I chuckle, "We have to get off of the plane, honey."

"Sounds like a personal problem," She mumbles.

I roll my eyes. Now she's just being stubborn.

"Alright, well you can either walk or I can throw you over my shoulder; your choice."

Scarlett's eyes open in pure intrigue. Her eyebrow raises and she holds her gaze to mine in a sort of challenge. "You wouldn't."

I reach for her legs and she jumps up, hitting her head on the ceiling in the process. "Ow! Okay, okay," She pushes my hands away and then rubs the top of her head. "Ouch," She mumbles again. "I'm going!"

I chuckle and stand out in the aisle, motioning for her to go ahead of me, as she rolls her eyes and mumbles something angrily.

"I thought you were excited about Florida," I tease her as soon as we get off of the terminal and enter the airport."

"I am," She smiles widely and then lets herself mold into my side. I maneuver our carry on bags so that I can wrap my arm around her. I kiss the side of her head and she doesn't seem to mind that the rest of the group, who are currently making their way off the airplane, notice; I can't help but think that something changed this morning when she finally opened up to me, even if she couldn't actually say anything, she admitted that she wanted to. "I was just more excited about sleeping."

I smile. "You sure love sleep."

"It is one of my favorite activities," She yawns.

"Don't tell me you're going to sleep all trip."

"Don't be ridiculous I-," Scarlett's sentence stops dead in it's tracks as she gasps and then runs over to the window.

"Scarlett?" I call nervously, at first thinking that something must be seriously wrong with her. I push through a few people rather rudely, only half-heartedly offering "excuse me's" as I make my way over to my imprint; just the thought that she is in some sort of danger sends my heart beating fast and the wolf in me threatening to erupt.

"Scarlett." I grab her upper arm once I reach her and pull, though she doesn't budge. "Don't do that again," Even I can hear the growl in my voice that comes from my need to protect her. "There's a ton of people here."

Even with her face pressed up tightly against the glass I can sense the roll of her eyes. "What do you think's going to happen Paul? They're going to kidnap me into the sex trade?"

I huff. "With the way you look, probably."

I take a step back and stare at her; Scarlett's face is pressed so closely against the window that it is actually touching, and her hands are on either side of her head. She looks just like a little girl.

"What are you doing?" I ask after a moment, the worry gone from my voice and instead humor behind my tone.

Scarlett picks her head up and then smiles widely at me. "Palm Tree's," She bites the corner of her lip. "Do you see them?"

I gulp and nod my head after a second, though I haven't even looked to see any at all. I am momentarily shocked when I begin to feel something else for Scarlett, a protective quality deep in my veins that is screaming that my imprint isn't seventeen but seven; it's such an odd feeling that I have absolutely no idea what to do with it.

She begrudgingly pulls herself away from the window and practically bounces in front of me. "Will you take me to the beach?" She asks almost shyly, her blonde hair springing in the air.

I smile widely at her. "Of course I will, sweetheart."

"Scarlett, Paul, you guys coming?" Renesmee stands with her eyebrows raised and hands on her hips. I loop my arm around Scarlett's shoulders and pull her along with me. With Scarlett acting like a little girl, it brought out a protective, brother-like quality in me that I can't deny, but what actually scares me, and perhaps the real reason for that reaction, is that I wonder why she acted like that in the first place; it's almost like… she's never been happy before.

We pick up our bags at the baggage claim and then have to wait for all of Nessie's four suitcases before we finally leave. I could tell that Scarlett was getting antsy, although she tried to hide it as best she could; I know that she doesn't ever want to cause a problem.

The heat slaps us in the face once we get outside, and though I could honestly go for somewhere colder when it comes to my temperature, Scarlett practically moans as she takes in the heat.

"Ugh, this is incredible!" She falls against my side and I have to drop my duffel bag to make sure she doesn't fall on the ground. Nessie giggles and finally Scarlett joins in and regains her footing.

"What are you so happy about?" Jared teases her, "Paul not hot enough for you?"

Scarlett blushes so deeply it looks painful. I laugh and pull her closer to my side, kissing her forehead as she tries to dodge my mouth. Everyone laughs, and I feel a little bit bad that Scarlett isn't in on the personal joke; I don't want her to think we're making fun of her, though one thing I know for certain is telling her about my being a werewolf would probably send her sprinting to the other side of the world.

We get the rental car and then arrive at Nessie's house after a little bit of driving. To say that she had understated her family's beach house, would be an actual understatement. The Cullen's beach house is more like a beach mansion, and it is right on the water too. I notice Scarlett's eyes light up when she sees the proximity to the water and suddenly feel gratitude for the Cullen's, which is such a surprise in itself that I momentarily pinch myself.

Although the smell isn't as bad as I thought it would be, I definitely recoil at the initial scent when we walk through the door. Nessie grabs Scarlett's hand and I bite back a growl when she goes flying out of my hand and racing through the house to check out the place.

"Everything okay?" Jacob asks after they faded from view.

I clear my throat and nod my head. "Yeah, that was just weird, is all."

"With Scarlett?" He asks me.

I nod. Usually I would not be so keen on telling Jacob Black the aspects of my private life, but before that was because I was the one with the experience, and he was the one who didn't have a clue; now, though, the roles are definitely reversed.

"What happened?" He pushes.

I rub the scruff of my jaw and try to rehash the events since last night. "Last night things got a little… heated."

Jake laughs. "Oh really? I couldn't tell."

I shove his arm. Hard. Though he barely even reacts. Scarlett wears what little we have had of sexual escapades like a blinking red stoplight.

"But then at the airport. I got this weird feeling, almost like, like she wasn't like, like, I don't know how to explain it," I moan in frustration.

"I get it, trust me," Jacob rolls his eyes. "The imprint bond is weird because it connects you emotionally to your imprint. So, if she is feeling one way, than you will probably start to feel that way too, the tricky thing that you're probably experiencing, just judging off of how I know Scarlett to be, is that she is confused, so you'll feel conflicting emotions sometimes."

"Exactly!" I snap my fingers. "Last night she told me she wanted more, but just, couldn't, and then at the airport I felt different, almost like a- no, I can't say that."

"What?"

"It's," I struggle with the right word. "Kinda creepy."

"Like a parent? Or a big brother?" He finishes for me.

I gulp and nod my head.

Jacob clasps his hand on my shoulder. "Welcome to imprint life, asshole."

I shove his hand away as he laughs. "If you find yourself being that way with her, than it probably means that she needs that role fulfilled."

"A parent role?" I try not to gag; I am still extremely sexually attracted to this girl.

"Well not a parent," He continues, "Just more of a protector."

I nod. "It's just weird. I just, sometimes she does something and I feel like she's a little girl and I need to jump in front of a bus to protect her."

Jake bursts into laughter though I narrow my eyes at him.

"Well, I mean, she's obviously got some things she needs to deal with, Paul."

I growl and lunge at him but Embry grabs my waist and pulls me back. "Chill!" He demands. "Do you really think physically attacking someone is what she needs? We're talking about the same girl that flinches every time you get in a ten-mile radius of her."

I swallow down the venom that is rising in my throat. "Why do you care so much?" My hands form in fists at my sides without me even noticing. All I can remember are the visions of Scarlett's legs, of her laugh, and of him watching her from afar, watching her while she was with _me_ , that I saw in Embry's head during our last run.

Embry diverts eye contact. "I don't."

"She's mine," I threaten.

"She doesn't belong to anyone," He defends. Jacob's eyes widen as we both look at Embry in sudden shock.

I am about to attack him when I hear her.

"Paul!" Just then, Scarlett comes zooming down the hallway and practically knocks me off my feet, which is rather hard to do with a werewolf, when she threw herself into my arms. "Come on! Pick a room so we can go to the beach."

My arms immediately tighten around her and my jaw tenses as I try to control my anger. Thankfully, her happiness is more convincing than my anger towards Embry. "Alright," I answer after a moment. I set her down and make it a point to pull her to the other side, the one _without_ Embry, and sling my arm over her shoulders.

"Are you more interested in a beach view or a really great shower?"

Is it bad that all I can think about is showering with her? "Either, Scar. I'll take whichever one you don't want."

Her smile drops. Her face literally falls, and yet again I am left dumbstruck as to what I did this time. "Oh," She says, her voice falling a few octaves. I rack my brain for whether I was supposed to choose shower or beach view but I can't figure out one single reason why any of those choices would offend her.

"Well," She steps into one that I can only assume is the beach view and then reaches for my bag off of the bed. "I guess I'll take this one then." She hands me my bag and I take it hesitantly.

"You alright?" I ask her slowly.

She crosses her arms overtop of her chest but doesn't say anything; this is more like the Scarlett that I know.

I drop my bag and then take a few, confident strides towards her. She winces and jumps back, and I immediately slow; it has been a while since she did that. Moving my hands extra slowly, I reach for her upper arms and begin rubbing her skin underneath my palms. "What's wrong?" I try to make my voice as gentle as possible.

This.

I finally understand it; when she acts like this, I feel like I'm not talking to a girl that I would like to date, rather, a little girl that I want to make feel better. I lean down in front of her and place my hands on her knees. "Scarlett?"

No response.

"Scar?"

"Scarie?"

"Scarory?"

"Scarlae?" The corner of her lip twitches up.

"Scarlettica?"

Scarlett giggles and then bites the corner of her lip to stop herself. She looks up at me and I smile reassuringly at her; now that I understand more of her personality, it is getting just a little bit easier to pull her from one of her moments.

"What's wrong, baby girl?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "I'm not a baby."

My eyes widen; no she most definitely is not. "I thought you liked that name," I say, slightly dumbfounded.

"I do," She sighs. "I don't know why I said that."

"You're deflecting," I shoot her a grin.

She rolls her eyes, but then she lowers them back to her lap again. She begins doing that thing that she does every once in a while where she picks at her fingers, harshly and sometimes drawing blood; I hate it. I am about to reach out and stop her when her voice, tiny and timid, stops me.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course you can," I say as gently as I can as I place a piece of her long, golden hair behind her ear.

Her eyes rise to meet mine. "Are you planning on bringing girls home this trip?"

My hand freezes mid-air. I honestly cannot believe what words just came out of her mouth. Is she insane? "W-what?" I ask, trying not to, though I know I am looking at her as if she has lost her mind.

"I mean, it's fine if you are," She looks back towards her lap. "I don't care."

I let out a long breath and shake my head at her, because I know that's not true at all. "Of course not," I try to keep my teeth from clenching at the mere thought. "Why would you ask that?"

She bites the corner of her lip as I wait. Every time words rise in my throat I push them down like throw up and force myself to wait. I have never been a patient person, in fact, I have always been a very impatient person, but Scarlett has forced that to change; she has already made me better, now if I could just get to work on her.

"I just-, fine, than," She speaks finally; I actually lean forward in intrigue, for I had half expected her to just remain mute for the duration of this trip. "Do you not want to share a room with me because of the last time you slept over?"

Good God.

I force myself not to roll my eyes and take her face between my hands. "Scarlett, don't be ridiculous." Angry creases form on her forehead as she opens her mouth to argue, though I speak before she can. If anything, her having a panic attack makes me want to sleep with her more, because then I could be there to comfort her. "I already told you; if you want something, all you need to do is ask."

She blinks at me a total of six times before she speaks. "I would like to know why you weren't planning on sharing a room with me."

I have a sudden urge to shake her because she is being so ridiculous; does she honestly have no idea how badly I _want_ to share a room with her, let alone a bed. "I didn't want you to feel pressured," I answer honestly. "Honestly it was Nessie's suggestion."

Her mouth drops. "Nessie," She narrows her eyes as the name slips out of her mouth angrily.

I roll my eyes. "Relax, champ, she just wanted to make sure you didn't feel pressured, like I said."

She blinks four more times. "I like pressure."

I stare at her for a moment before I finally stand and throw my bag back onto the bed. "Fine, but you're going to have to ask me, or I'm not staying in here."  
Her mouth opens in anger at the bargain; if this is what it is going to take to get her to communicate with me, than I guess I am going to have to put my money where my mouth is if she refuses, even if I really don't want to.

"Ask you what?" She stammers.

I smile. "Ask me to stay in here with you."

"Ah," She gasps. "Why don't _you_ ask me to stay in here with _you_?" She counters as she crosses her arms overtop of her chest and death-glares me.

"Because you already claimed this room. I can't ask you to stay in your room with me, that doesn't even make sense." I know I am being cruel now, but teasing her is fun, much more fun than I would ever admit.

"Ugh, fine!" She moans. "Paul will you stay in my room with me?" She asks this so quickly and with a tone so low that all the words mend together in one long word.

"What?" I laugh.

"Paul!" She exclaims, throwing her hands out.

"I didn't hear you!" I lie.

"Will you _please_ ," She puts extreme overemphasis on that last word, "Stay in this bedroom, this very one that we are standing in right now, with me, Scarlett Rhodes, for the duration of this vacation?"

"Sure!" I exclaim happily. "Why didn't you just ask?"

She hits my arm and I laugh and pretend that it hurt, though it really was the equivalent of a fly landing on my arm.

"Can we go to the beach now?" She asks with slight irritation.

"Okay but before we go can you please tell me if I need to share a towel with you or not because I wouldn't want you thinking that I'm leaving my extra centimeter of towel for some other girl or something…"

"Ugh!" She slams her suitcase open as she digs through it angrily. "Stop making fun of me!"

"I'm not," I lie.

"Yes you are."

"I'll wait outside for you."

"Wait!" She calls before I even have a chance to leave. "I may need some help tying my swimsuit." She smiles shyly and then exits into the bathroom; I am left with heart palpitations and sweaty palms. She can't be serious- is she _trying_ to test my willpower. I have to sit on the edge of the bed to catch my breath; all her sudden mood changes are making my head spin.

About thirty seconds later she calls my name from the bathroom. When I reach it the door is still closed and I hesitate for a second. "Ugh, can I come in?" I knock gently.

"No don't worry about it," She calls out, "Just use that power you have where you can reach through wood and tie my swimsuit!"

I roll my eyes and push the door open.

Fuck she is perfect.

Scarlett is standing with her hands covering her chest, keeping her swimsuit up, as her entire back is exposed. I gulp at the smooth, somehow already tan, skin and will myself not to reach out and touch her.

"There's a clasp that's kind of tricky for me to get," She explains after a moment, turning to peer over at me with nervous yet confused eyes; she is probably wondering why I haven't made any move to tie it yet.

I clear my throat and then walk over to her. Shit, bad idea; this close, I am able to more easily make out her flawless skin, supernatural in its own right. Her spine curves at just the right angle, and she has two, prominent dimples right above where her shorts sit. I can't help myself.

I reach down and gently press my fingers into the indentations. I notice her breath catch as she idles her movements. "These are cute," I tell her softly. After a few seconds of not responding, I reach for the straps and clasp them together.

Like she said, it took a few seconds for the clasp was rather difficult. Her swimsuit was deep blue and just as simple as the other two, though it had gold clasps on both the bottom and the top, somehow looking even more sexy than usual. After it was on I not so discreetly trailed my fingers down her back before pulling away and turning on my heel; I need to get out of here before I so something not so PG.

"Wait," She says quickly. I turn to see her eyes bearing directly into mine through the large bathroom mirror. I watch with my gaze locked on hers as she reaches back and unclasps it again. I watch the way it clicks off and shoots to the sides with serious focus before I shake the vision off and look at her with a confusion expression; why did she do that?

Scarlett bites the corner of her lip in this way that I honestly believe she has no idea how absolutely sexy it is, and then smiles guiltily at me; I just about drop to my knees for this girl.

"I don't know what happened; could you do that again?"

My lips pull up into a small smile. That was fucking cute; totally ridiculous for her just thinking I was going to be fucking other girls this trip, but fucking adorable none-the-less.

I walk back over to her and slowly re-clasp the top and then run my fingers slowly down her back twice. I lean down to gently place a kiss on her shoulder and notice that her eyes are closed.

I want to do more; I really, really, _really_ want to do more, and with any other girl, if it was any other time, I would, but it's _her._ I wrap my arms around her stomach from behind and pull her closer to me. "Scarlett," I whisper into her ear.

It's the damn imprint shit, I know it is, for something deep in my get is telling me that she's not ready for that, not even close, and it's making me not want it either.

She smiles that beautiful smile that puts every other girl's smile to shame and opens her perfect, big eyes. "What?"

"Let's go to the beach, sweetheart."

She smiles so wide I think she may explode. "Okay!" She jumps out of my arms. "Let me just grab some equipment!"

"Equipment?"

* * *

The "equipment" that Scarlett had been referring to, turned out to be a soccer ball and a tub to connect shells. She threw two towels at me, literally, and then put the ball into the bucket and charged outside. Barefooted, she sprinted across the small boardwalk in Nessie's backyard and then dropped her things on the beach as she took off for the water. I rushed after her because of a sudden fear inside of me that she will get eaten up by the ocean and drop our towels next to her stuff.

She is waist deep as I dive in after her.

"Paul!" She exclaims, her eyes wide as I reach for her legs and swing her over my shoulder.

I pretend I am about to throw her deeper into the ocean but she squeals and reaches for my neck, locking her arms around me.

"No!" She exclaims, although all I can hear are giggles. God, those damn giggles could keep me living for days and days and days without food or water or any type of life. I try again but she expertly wraps her legs around my stomach on the way down and clings onto me like some sort of monkey.

"If I'm going in I'm taking you with me," She threatens.

I laugh. "You're so threatening, Scar."

"I mean it Lahote," She giggles.

I raise my eyebrows and she raises hers back, both of us challenging each other although the look on her face is undoubtedly a hell of a lot cuter than mine. I easily untangle her thin, little legs from around me and toss her a little ways out in the water. She squeals and then her body makes a soft thud when it is engulfed by the water.

She comes up coughing… and gagging… and coughing.

Shit.

I hastily swim over to her and then grab her shoulders, pulling her close. "Scarlett, are you okay?" I ask, worry seeping out of my voice and palpable between the two of us. "I'm so sorry, baby. Are you hurt?"

"Gotcha!" Before I have a chance to react she places her hands on top of my head and pushes me down, expertly dunking me during a moment of distraction.

I emerge with so much respect, a slightly turned on body, and vengeance. "You're gunna get it."

"I dare ya!" She giggles as she lurches away from me and begins swimming. I reach her foot and then pull her towards me as she screeches to get away.

"Help, rape!"

I immediately let go of her with wide eyes and full panic but she just throws her head back and laughs, taking that time to swim farther away from me and wrap her leg around mine and pull me under in the process.

"Scarlett!" I call out once I emerge from the water.

"What?" She challenges happily.

"You can't say that," I laugh.

"Why not?" She giggles.

"Because, well because- you just can't!"

"That's a really valid argument you've got there."

"You better get over here." I reach for her but she squeals and splashes water in my face. I reach for her sides and tickle her mercilessly as she tries to squiggle out of my grasp. Eventually I let her free with a laugh of my own and let her think that she managed to break away.

"Let's see if we can see any sharks!" She exclaims happily as she begins swimming out farther.

"Sharks?" I panic. "Oh no you don't." I take two quick strides before I reach her and spin her around in the water. I push her onto my back and begin swimming for the both of us.

She rolls off of my back and begins swimming next to me. I shake my head at her, though I let it slide. I've never heard of a wolf phasing in water before, but I guess if I sensed a shark attack I would just have to if it meant keeping her safe; one thing that is becoming more evident about this girl is that she has a definite wild side- my very own personal wild-child.

After honest to God two hours of "searing for sharks," Scarlett was so tired that I had to carry her back to shore. I laughed as I laid her down on her towel and then she dramatically threw her arm overtop of her head and draped her hand over her face. "The sun burns."

"Did you put any sunscreen on?"

"Could you be more specific?" She smiles guiltily.

I roll my eyes. "You're going to get burnt, and then I really don't want to have to take care of you while you complain about it all weekend."

"Hey!" She says as she takes the sunscreen out of my hand, though her giggle gives her away. She sits up with a sigh and then begins spreading it on her perfect, skinny, _sexy_ legs, after that she moves to her stomach, and then her chest and I have to force my gaze away to stop staring at the way her perfect, round, so fucking perky breasts bounce back after she sunscreens the top of them.

Renesmee and Jacob are tanning with headphones in, while Kim, Jared and Seth are out by the water, throwing around the football and talking. I look around some more before I find Quil and Embry. Though Quil is looking out at the wonder, probably thinking about Claire and wondering if she got in her nap today, Embry is looking this way… watching Scarlett.

My entire body tenses in defense mode as I move to head straight for her. It isn't so much that Embry likes her; she's hot, I get it; I have caught Seth even thinking about her before, it's just that I don't like it. He knows that I imprinted on her, and I don't even think he is interested in her, it's just that he is so damn obvious about it.

I am about to stand when she flips over. "Could you get my back?" She asks innocently as she hands me the suntan lotion.

I forget all about Embry as I store at the sun beating down against her nearly bare body and notice those bright blue eyes staring at me. I take it and shake my head. "That ocean's got nothing on those eyes, baby girl."

She giggles and rests her cheek on the towel. "You're smooth Lahote; a little too smooth though."

"You think so?" I ask charmingly as I begin moving my hands along her back. Now, putting suntan lotion on a girl is most definitely something that I have perfected over the years, though I want to pull out all of my tricks when it comes to her. I glide my hands along her sides, just barely grazing my fingertips along the sides of her boobs being pressed out my lying on her stomach and I notice her mouth drop. I move the very, very tips of my fingers in small circles along her lower back and I actually hear her breath catch in her throat. Finally I take pity on her and stifle a laugh as I finish up, a little less sensual as I rubbed it along the top of her back.

When I finish she sighs and flips onto her back, biting the corner of her cheek as she tries not to smile; I pretend not to notice.

"Want to pick up sea-shells?" She asks me eagerly.

I can't help but laugh. "Can you even move to do that, honey?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "Of course."

She runs her fingers through her golden hair, the same hair that the sun is making shine a thousand different shades of yellow, and I notice her ring sparkle underneath the rays. I smile to myself; this is exactly what I imagined in my mind… only better.

She pushes herself up quickly and then rushes towards the water where the most shells are; I stare at her for a few seconds before I get up to follow; she is too perfect- no, literally. She is proportionally, Godly, unnaturally perfect, and curvy and skinny and sexy too. I don't deserve her, but hell do I want her.

I stand with a moan, more at what I have gotten myself into rather than the actual movement, and go to stand next to her.

"Finding anything good?" I ask her.

"Not really." She twists a black shell in her hand a few times before tossing it back in the sand. "I'm looking for one of those twisty shells."

"Twisty shells?"

"Yeah, you know," She does a little motion in the air of a swirl and I stifle a laugh; she is so fucking adorable, it should be illegal.

"You mean conch shells?"

"Anything that twists I am a-okay with."

I chuckle though she just trains her eyes in focus on the sand below us. "You really love the beach, don't you?" I ask, focusing my gaze on her.

She smiles to herself and then nods her head, still staring at the ground.

"Is there a reason you never went before you moved?"

Scarlett's calm expression is immediately replaced with a sort of worried one; her eyes fall and she starts biting the inside of her cheek. I am sure that this is the moment in which she usually shuts down, which is why I am surprised when she doesn't. "Well," She begins softly, twisting her hands nervous as she speaks, though I don't dare say anything in worry that she would stop talking. "I wasn't really comfortable going to the beach… before."

I frown. What the hell does that mean?

"Why? Did you like, lose a lot of weight or something?"

I meant the question seriously, but Scarlett's hysterical laughter made me pretend like it had been a joke. "Was it a money situation?" I ask softer. I don't want her to think that I judge her for that, or that any of us ever would; none of us are rich by any means, well, except for Nessie of course.

"N-not really," She stutters. "I mean, m-my p-parents don't do anything special but they m-make enough."

I frown. Why is she stuttering again? I thought that nervous habit had gone away a long time ago, yet here it is again. Regardless, I don't have time to think about it; I worry that if I miss my opportunity she may never open up again.

"I thought your parents traveled all the time."

It takes her a few minutes, but eventually she admits my suspicions. "I lied. I live with my aunt. My aunt does travels a lot, though."

I nod my head. The growing question that still remains though, is _why_. "Hey Scar," I begin slowly as she tilts her head to meet my gaze. "Can I ask you why you lied about that? I'm not trying to freak you out, and you don't have to tell me anything other than what you want to."

Her eyes crinkle at the corners. She smiles a small smile, a small _sad_ smile, but she still smiles. "I-I don't-don't have a g-good re-re-relationship," She nervously runs a hand through her hair, "w-with my p-parents."

In that one sentence, she stuttered so much I could barely understand her, but I still did. And right in that moment, I finally got a little bit of a hint of what has her so freaked out: It has something to do with her parents.

* * *

Please follow/favorite/review... I can't wait to hear what you all think! Have a spectacular week and I will surely update asap!


	15. Discoveries Part 1

Happy Monday! There is a question for you all at the end of the chapter regarding the story, so please read & respond if you would like to! Enjoy!

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

"Paul?" Scarlett knocks timidly from behind the bathroom door.

I pull it open and she takes a surprised step back. Scarlett's eyes drop straight to my towel, and then widen a bit, but I am staring for reasons of my own right. Scarlett has on a black dress, but not just any black dress. The straps are thin and it lands just low enough to show off the top of her perfect, smooth cleavage; from there it flows down to the middle of her thigh.

It's not just the dress through. Scarlett has red lipstick on, and is that… blush? I have no fucking idea if that is the name of it, but what I do know is that it is making her cheekbones more pronounced, nearly razor sharp, and all I want to do is get cut by them. Her eyelashes are longer too, much longer, making her bright blue eyes pop against the stark black.

I gulp.

"Oh, ugh, I'm sorry," She blushes. She must have taken my quietness for something other than what it actually was, which is complete and total obsession with that perfect body.

"You're fine, Scar," I tell her quickly, not wanting her to rush off, especially when she looks like this. "Come on in." I tap the counter and am pleased when she jumps up onto it. I guess I should stop being surprised when Scarlett actually shows an interest in me; at this point one of the only things that I _do_ know is that she does like me.

"Do you like my hair?" She asks shyly.

Her hair? "Of course," I respond without even thinking. "I love your hair."

She giggles, and I can't help but stare at the way that her plush, red lips pull up, illuminating her white teeth underneath. I shiver; she is so sexy. "I mean do you like it like this?" She exclaims.

It takes me a second to realize what the hell she is talking about, when suddenly she flips it to the front and I realize exactly why she seems nervous. Her normally wavy hair is shining and straight. Instead of landing just below her boobs, it makes it to her mid stomach, much longer without its natural wave. After nearly one day in the sun, Scarlett's hair has gotten dramatically lighter; so blonde it would be kind of concerning if it wasn't natural. It's the eyes and the blonde, blonde hair and the lipstick that make me come to this conclusion: I have never seen her look sexier.

I reach behind her small, heart shaped face and pull all of her hair in front of her shoulders. I run my fingers through her hair, even softer than usual, though I didn't even know that was possible. "I do," I respond quietly; I am not sure how to say this with the correct amount of impact, so for some reason I say it softly.

"Really?" She bites the corner of her lip.

I nod my head. "You look," My eyes widen, not necessarily able to finish that sentence without letting a few explicates split. I laugh and shake my head, rubbing my palm against my forehead and then sighing to myself. "Jesus, Scar," I mumble to myself.

She giggles, and I can't help but smile in her direction; I seriously can't handle that child-like laugh that she has; how on earth do I find her so sexy yet so fucking cute at the same time?

"Are you almost ready for dinner?" She asks, leaning back so that her back is against the mirror. "Embry is getting hangry."

I chuckle, though I can't deny the surge of irrational anger that shoots through my veins at the speed of light on steroids at the mention of his name. I don't want my Scarlett saying his name, let alone speaking to him, but I swallow it down because I understand how ass-hole'ish that is of me; she can be friends with whoever she wants. It's not _her_ that I'm worried about, though.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" I ask finally.

"Sure," She answers slowly. "Though I can't promise I'll answer it."

I chuckle. "Has Embry made you feel… uncomfortable at all this trip?"

Scarlett frowns. "What?"

I sigh. "Nevermind." I guess that answers my question.

"Wait," Scarlett reaches out and places her hand on my arm. I stare at her fingers, so tiny and delicate, and want them all over me. "What do you mean, 'Is he making you feel uncomfortable?'" She mimics, or at least attempts to mimic, my voice and I force myself not to laugh.

"It's just," I struggle with figuring out the correct way to say this. "I just want to make sure that you're not feeling uncomfortable around him, or he hasn't said anything to you; he hasn't said anything to you, right?"

Scarlett is looking at me like I am mentally insane; honestly sometimes now I wonder that too. "Uhm, I mean I came on vacation with him; I'm pretty sure we've spoken a few words now and then, we did just get here about five seconds ago though."

I roll my eyes. "You're fine than; it's no big deal."

"Well now I'm curious," She crosses her arms overtop of her chest and locks her gaze with mine.

I sigh. "Embry likes you."

Scarlett bursts into laughter. I frown; why is that so funny. "What?" She finally manages to ask once she pulls herself together.

I stare at her though I don't answer.

"I'm sorry," She takes a deep breath and then looks at me with a smile. "That is not true."

I shake my head at her; she has no idea. "Yes it is."

"No it's really not," She giggles. "It's kind of cute that you're jealous though." Scarlett's cheeks immediately redden and I am in turn immediately intrigued.

"Are you flirting with me, Scarlett?"

She blushes even harder. I laugh at how easily I can make her red; it makes me wonder how easily I would be able to elicit other types of responses. "Definitely not."

I smile widely. "Whatever you say."

"I do have a request though," She speaks shyly, and this time there is no denying the sensual edge to her voice.

I force myself not to laugh. "Now are you flirting?" I ask knowingly.

"Maybe a little," She bites the corner of her lip. I shiver again; for some reason that is 100x sexier with that damn red lipstick.

I place my hands on her thighs and stare at her; there is a gleam in her eyes that I am definitely liking. "What is your request, baby girl?"

Scarlett bites the corner of her lip in embarrassment, but that is the usual response whenever I use that nickname for her, so I can't be sure if her request will embarrass her or if it is the nickname or both. She pushes her hair behind her head again and then tucks it behind her ear.

"Can you," She begins slowly, her voice quiet and timid. Scarlett doesn't finish her sentence, but she tilts her head to the side and kind of tilts her neck closer to me. It takes me a few seconds to realize what she is asking for, but once I do get it, I am more than surprised, to say the least.

"Oh," I say, staring at the soft skin right beneath her ear and wanting to, _needing_ to kiss it, to suck it, to make her give her body to me just by my lips. I have to force my eyes away. "Really?" The only time I have ever done that for her had been the other night before the flight; it seems surprising that she would be so upfront about it.  
Scarlett smiles and then nods her head enthusiastically. Jesus Christ she is so fucking cute.

I can't help but smile as I take her face between my hands and kiss her softly on the cheek. "Of course," I whisper to her, kissing her again, though on her jaw this time. "Just," I kiss her jawbone, right in front of her ear, and then pull away. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is slightly parted; she looks completely and entirely in the zone, and I hate to pull her from my favorite place on earth that I love to go with her. "Let me put some clothes on."

Scarlett's eyes grow wide and her jaw drops as she looks down at my towel. "Oh!" She flushes. "I totally forgot about that!"

I chuckle. "Give me two minutes, sweetheart."

"Okay!" She giggles nervously and then hops off the counter and quickly rushes out of the room.

I reach for my shirt, ready to get dressed as soon as possible so that I can get right to that prior activity that she requested, when my eye catches something on the counter. Scarlett had been wearing a dress, and right where she had been sitting, there is a little spot that is visibly wet on the otherwise dry countertop.

My eyes widen as I stare at the spot, not able to look away.

Jesus Christ with this girl.

I have to physically force myself to reach for a tissue and wipe the spot away. I grasp the edges of the countertop and close my eyes to take a few, steadying breaths.

Holy shit.

I don't know how much longer I can control myself around her.

I emerge from the bathroom about five minutes and 100 deep breaths later, clothed this time; I am determined not to corrupt her before she is ready to be corrupted. I find Scarlett sitting on the bed. Her arms are crossed tightly overtop of her chest and when she spots me she narrows those adorable, blue eyes at me and gives me a death glare. I stifle a laugh.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"What took you so long?" She asks, seeming more like a little girl than a woman; ugh, I hate when she confuses me like this.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart." I climb on top of her and actually hear her gasp as I guide her onto the bed and lay her down. Scarlett's eyes are wide with wonder as I lay overtop of her, making sure not to put any weight at all on her, but close enough.

Not for the first time, I wonder how innocent she actually is.

I stroke her cheek and then cup it between my palm. "Are you too mad at me to still want what you requested?"

Scarlett's mouth parts. "No, definitely not."

I smile and swipe the hair off of her shoulder, spending particular time pulling the single, stray pieces off of her neck. She huffs and I know that I am teasing her, though I like it too much to stop so soon.

Finally, I take pity on her and kiss her gently, right beneath her ear. I hear her breath catch in her throat and put that sound to memory; I want to know everything that she does, every way that I can touch her to elicit a certain response. I want to know just from the sounds she makes in her throat or the sounds that she doesn't make at all if she likes what I am doing to her.

I kiss a little lower down, following an invisible trail down the side of her neck and then stopping at her collarbone. I laugh into her skin and then continue kissing her.

"What?" She asks, though her voice is raspy and oh, so, fucking sexy. I stifle down my sexual appetite for her- this is about _her_ , not me.

"You _really_ shouldn't have worn this dress."

"You don't like it?" She asks, breathless.

I kiss along the top of her collarbone, then the bottom, then the center. "No I don't; I love it. Too much. It's dangerous for the both of us." I suck on the skin right beneath her collarbone and she gasps and curves her back in the air.

Shit.

I slide my hand around her lower back and hold her up; I never want her to lie back down.

"You're so sexy." Shit. _Shit!_ I hadn't meant to let that slip out.

Scarlett giggles and rubs her hand overtop of mine that is on her back. Wow, okay, that was not the reaction that I was expecting.

"You think so?" She asks, her voice higher than usual.

"Don't be insane," I sigh into her skin; I can't seem to move my lips away from her collarbone.

"I'm not being insane," She chuckles, "I don't have any experience with this; I'm honestly just curious."

My lips stop mid-kiss. I move my mouth up so that I can kiss her temple and then sigh down at her as I swipe some of her hair out of her eyes. "None?"

She bites the corner of her lip and then shakes her head.

Well, that answers that question. I don't know why that makes me so fucking happy, but it does. Not only that, but it is also sexy as hell, too; knowing that the sounds that Scarlett makes with me, and her faces, and the way that she touches me and feels what I make her feel are all firsts for her makes my head spin.

"Don't be embarrassed," I whisper to her gently as I run my finger along her jawline. "I think it's sexy."

"Stop it," She rolls her eyes.

"I do," I squint at her.

"That's such a lie!" She exclaims, pushing on my chest, though it is half-hearted at best.

"No it's really not," I laugh and grab her hands between mine and hold them to my chest. "I think it's so sexy that you're innocent, Scar. I really do."

She blushes a thousand shades of crimson and I take pity on her. "We'll talk about this later," I speak into her neck as I begin kissing her again.

"We'll talk about this never," She replies, breathless yet again.

"Later."

"Never."

"Later." I suck on the nape of her neck firmly but not forcefully enough to leave a mark and she audibly whimpers. I honestly have to stop myself from reacting to that with a climatic, physical response.

"God, Scarlett," I moan as I breathe hot air into her skin.

"Mmm," She wraps her arms around my neck.

"You're killing me," I finally moan.

"I love you."

I freeze.

Scarlett gasps. I pull away to see her pale as a ghost and looking like she just witnessed a murder. "Shit! Oh, I- oh no- I-I-I-I d-didn't, t-that just slipped out. I didn't mean to- wow.

"Hey, it's okay," I reach out to cup her face but she pulls away.

"No- no- no, it's not. C-can you, can you p-please pretend that didn't happen can you just, can you please just- j-j-just-just-," Scarlett begins breathing quickly… too quickly. I know what is happening; I have seen it before, it practically happens in slow motion, though for some reason my brain isn't connecting and reflexes aren't working. I want to help her, but yet again I have no idea what the hell to do.

"I-I-I-I c-c-can't breathe," She gasps, sucking in breaths faster than she can actually get them in.

In a burst of one second all of my joins start working again. I sit up and reach for her, pulling her into my arms and ignoring her when she pushes me away. I hold her to my chest as she tries to gasp for breath.

I keep my arms wrapped tightly around her stomach and don't move, knowing that there is nothing that I can do, and feeling helpless for I just want to make it go away for her.

"Shhh, it's okay," I tell her softly, not wanting to overwhelm her but needing to at least _try_. My eyes scan for a bag but I don't find anything; the only thing worse for her than actually having a panic attack, would be everyone else knowing that she had a panic attack.

Although she isn't getting much, if any, air into her lungs, I feel her body beginning to slump; it almost feels like she is relaxing, but I know better. I pull her shoulders up and force her head up; she is seriously about to pass out.

"Hey," I tell her, more forceful now. "Breathe." I look her right in those blue, panicked eyes and nod my head, hoping that this will somehow help her. I take a long, deep breath and then tell her again, "Breathe."

It takes a few seconds, but slowly yet surely she begins to breathe again. At first it is just longer gasps, and then finally she is breathing normally.

I stroke my palms along the sides of her face and she reaches up to hold one of my palms to her cheek. Scarlett closes her eyes and focuses on her breathing, which is good, for I would have made her do that if she didn't do it herself.

"I'm sorry," She whispers, her eyes still closed.

I kiss each of her eyelids, just barely brushing my lips against her skin, and then kiss her once, more firmly, right in the center of the forehead. I don't want her to be embarrassed; I want her not to have panic attacks anymore.

"Hey, you guys ready?" I hear a knock on our bedroom door and then none other than Nessie Cullen's high, annoying voice ring through the room.

"Give us a second," I respond bluntly.

Scarlett doesn't respond to either of us; she doesn't even act like she heard anything.

"Is everyone decent?" She asks again, though her voice is clearer this time. I turn towards her and then notice her eyes widen when she notices Scarlett, or rather, Scarlett with her eyes closed and me with my hands on her face. She stops walking mid-step and looks nervously from Scarlett and then back to me. "Oh."

"Five minutes," I tell her, and then turn back to Scarlett, who still hasn't moved or opened her eyes since she apologized.

I hear the door click shut and then kiss her jawline.

"You okay, baby girl?"

She nods her head slowly. "I'm sorry," She says again.

"Don't apologize," I tell her, and I really do mean it.

"No," She opens her eyes. I see tears condensing in the corners but don't say anything because it is obvious that she is trying to hold them in. "Let me." Scarlett smiles a small, crooked smile slightly riddled with pain that I want so badly to take away and bites the inside of her cheek. "I'm sorry, Paul."

I shake my head and go to say that she doesn't need to apologize again, but decide to let her have this; perhaps allowing her to be sorry for it is a step in the right direction.

"Do you want to go to dinner still, or would you rather stay in?" I ask gently.

"Of course I want to go!" The girl even looks offended.

"Alright," I smile and press some of her hair behind her ear. "Come on sweetie." She takes my hands and I pull her up. Scarlett wavers a little bit so I grab her shoulders to keep her steady.

"You good?" I ask her nervously.

"I'm fine," She smiles embarrassingly. "I think I just need some water."

I slowly lower her back down to sit on the bed and then kiss her cheek softly. I grab a small cup of water from the bathroom and then hand it to her. She smiles gratefully and then takes a sip followed by a long sigh.

"I hate those," She says, not looking at me but speaking honestly nonetheless. "It's like, the worst feeling in the world," She rubs her arms. "Not being in control of your own body."

I nod my head. I wish I could understand, but I've never had a panic attack. I suddenly want to have one, just to know what it feels like; just to understand what it is that she goes through.

"How often do you have them, Scar?" I ask gently; I don't want her to be too freaked out to answer, for I know that I have asked her this before yet she hasn't given me a clear answer. For some reason, though, I feel like it is different now; she is really, _really_ trying now.

"W-well," She looks towards the floor. "I used to get them all the time, b-but it's always when I'm alone. T-that's one of the reasons why I was in so many sports and stuff; when I was around people I was okay. T-they us-us-us-usually happened like in t-the shower or something. Ugh," She clears her throat. "I've never had them around other people… except with you."

I kneel down in front of her. "That could either be a really good thing or a really bad one," I joke.

Scarlett giggles and then surprises me when she wraps her skinny, little arms around my neck and hugs me. She buries her face into my shoulder and takes a deep, deep breath. I push her to me and breathe in her hair; God she always smells so good, just like coconuts and Scarlett and _sexy_.

"You ready to go sweetheart?" I rub the top of her back and she chuckles into my shoulder.

"You and your names."

She stands up and then holds out her hands. I laugh to myself as she "helps me up."  
"You don't like the names now?" I kiss her cheek and she rolls her eyes.

"I didn't say that."

She walks into the bathroom and nods to herself in the mirror. "Alright." Scarlett brushes her hair and then her teeth quickly before popping up, almost like nothing ever happened. "Ready!"

I hug her tight to my chest as she is leaving, wrapping both of my arms around her shoulders and shoving her face into my chest. I just want her to feel safe.

"See!" She says once she pulls away from me. " _This_ is why I can't wear makeup."

* * *

Dinner was actually pretty damn great.

I will have to thank Nessie later for not saying anything about what Scarlett may or may not have noticed earlier; now that she is Scarlett's best friend, I appreciate her much more, and I see Jacob's whole deal with her. Although she can be annoying, one of the reasons is because she's so damn nice, which is why I think she's a great friend to Scarlett.

Scarlett had forced me to get shark, not that she really had to pull my arm all that much when her eyes sparkled and she popped up in her chair to ask me. For some reason she really got a kick out of me eating it, and of course she winded up trying it, though she didn't like it that much.

Now we are all headed towards some outdoor mall that is supposed to be rather big around here. Scarlett, who was walking with Renesmee a few feet back, comes up beside me and entwines her hand with mine. I smile down at her as she blushes and rests her cheek on the side of my arm.

Damn she is perfect.

I squeeze her hand and rub my thumb against her skin; I want her to know that I see what she's doing. I see how hard she is trying, how intensely she is struggling to let me in.

"Oo, here!" Nessie grabs Kim's hand, who squeals in that same high-pitched girl scream that Nessie just used and they both go rushing in. Scarlett sighs against my arm and doesn't make any inclination to follow them.

As soon as we get inside Nessie and Kim are already searching through racks. Scarlett doesn't let go of my hand as she slowly, and I mean _slowly,_ strolls through the main walkway, running her fingers along a shirt every now and again.

"You okay, Scar?" I ask her.

"Oh, yeah," She smiles guiltily. "I'm not a huge shopper."

"Really?" I honestly don't think I've ever met a girl that doesn't enjoy shopping.

"Yeah," She blushes. "I don't know why it just kind of makes me want to kill someone."

I burst out a laugh in the middle of a breath; I hadn't expected that. "Really? Every time I've seen you, you have a different bikini on."

Scarlett blushes; yet again I am left completely dumbstruck at how one minute she is shamelessly asking me to kiss her neck and the next she is embarrassed about me talking about her in a bikini.

"Bikini shopping it not regular shopping, Paul Lahote."

"Oh, my bad," I laugh and feign offense. "Are you sure you don't want anything; I'll buy you something."

Scarlett smiles that wide, beautiful smile at me that lights up her eyes. "Yes Paul, I'm sure."

She grabs my wrist and pulls me forward, surprisingly strong for such a little thing. She pulls me towards the back of the store and I am about to ask what is going on when she stops and swivels on her heel. Scarlett bites the corner of her lip as she quickly pulls me towards her by my collar and then kisses me.

I react greedily, though I can't really react any differently when she kisses me; it's those damn lips, no man will ever be able to understand. I press my palms to the sides of her cheeks and pull her closer to me. I kiss her softly at first, loving the feeling of her smiling beneath the kiss. After a few seconds, though, I need more.

I suck her lower lip and she shivers in my arms. I have to hold her. My arms find their way around her back and keep her held tightly to me as I try to have some type of self-control with her.

Fuck. She doesn't only look good, she _feels_ good too, and tastes good and smells good and kisses good. I have kissed a lot of girls, and honestly, Scarlett is the single best kisser I have ever encountered. She kisses deeply but slowly but not with too much tongue; she is always gentle too, even when she is moving frantically, like she was that other night before the flight.

I push her back until I hear her hit against a rack of clothes and she giggles and touches the side of my face. I can't stop kissing her.

"Okay, you two, can you please like stop because I just ate and I didn't have time to digest my food."

Scarlett pulls away, and I would be more than comfortable ignoring Nessie Cullen and just getting back to our previous activity, but Scarlett is a tomato and I know it may be a little too forceful to attack her with my face again. I smile and wrap my arms around her neck, burying her face into my chest and then swinging her from side to side.

"You and Jacob are worse!" Her voice comes out muffled. I let her go though now she is the one holding onto me. Scarlett is hugging me from the front, her arms not even reaching all the way to my back as I massage the tops of her shoulders.

"No I really don't think so," Nessie laughs, watching us, taking us in.

"You guys are different though," Scarlett points out.

"What?" Nessie crosses her arms overtop of her chest, her arm of hangers rattling as she does so. "How come you and Paul can be all over each other yet I poke Jacob and you start screaming."

"Because you and Jacob are gross; Paul and I are perfect."

"Ohhhh!" I can't help but laugh as Scarlett giggles. What I really heard from that diss, though, is what I am pretty sure was Scarlett referring to us as a couple. Nessie rolls her eyes though I can tell that she is biting back a smile.

"Shut-up and get over here," Nessie finally says. "I found something for you." Nessie holds up a small, _very_ small red, sheer and lacey lingerie piece; my immediate reaction is yes, which is why I know that Scarlett's immediate reaction will be no.

Scarlett gasps and rushes towards her. "Nessie!" She exclaims, taking the lingerie and trying to cover it as best as she can. "What is wrong with you?"

"I just thought you two would enjoy it, is all!"

"Are you insane!" Someone passes by them and Scarlett gasps as she tries to conceal it; I laugh. "I would look like a prostitute!"

Nessie appears taken aback. "Hey! I have an outfit that looks just like this."

Scarlett nods her head slowly. "Exactly."

"Hey girls are you almost ready to- woah." Quil looks from Scarlett to the red lace as Scarlett's face becomes the color of the lingerie. "Scarlett," His lips pull up at the corners and I know that this is not about to be good. "Wow. I didn't know that was your style but good for you."

Scarlett gasps and tries to push it back into Nessie's hands, but she doesn't take it. "T-this wasn't mine! Nessie- Nessie!"

"What's going on over he-, oh!" Jacob slings his arm over Quil and has near the same response. "Jesus Scarlett," Jacob laughs. "Unexpected, but I respect it."

"This is not mine!" She exclaims.

"Are Paul and you planning something special that we should be aware of?" Jared jokes.

"Yeah, come on Scarlett, at least give us a days notice so we can escape the premises."

Scarlett's mouth drops though everyone laughs, me included. It is so obvious that this particular piece of clothing was Renesmee's doing, and from Scarlett's reaction I can see how it would be near impossible not to tease her for it.

"Alright, alright," I come up to her once I realize that she's had enough and hug her from behind, my arms pressing into her upper arms. "Leave her alone you assholes." I kiss her cheek and I can actually _feel_ the heat of her embarrassment.

"Oh, I see, a little pre-show to what will be going on later tonight," Jared quips. Poor Scarlett; now that they see what it takes to embarrass her, she really is in for it.

"Shut up." Embry appears behind the three of them, his jaw set in a straight line and his arms crossed tightly over his chest. I tighten my arms around her on instinct.

"Geeze, Emb, we're just goofing around," Jacob punches his shoulder.

Embry pulls away. "It's not funny."

"What the hell is your problem?" I blurt, my voice much louder than I intended it to be.

Scarlett gasps and then I feel her body tighten up like all those times before. All the anger all but evaporates off of me as I rub my hands along the tops of her arms. "I'm sorry, baby," I whisper to her.

"I-It's fine," She mumbles. I slowly spin her towards me and press her hair down to the sides of her face and kiss her forehead, making sure that she isn't too freaked out. Thankfully, she seems more embarrassed than anything.

"Let's go walk around outside until everyone's ready to go." I reach for her hand and then begin pulling her outside. I nod to Jacob, just as much our alpha as Sam, "Take care of this," I speak lowly.

He nods once, but I know that it will be dealt with.

I pull Scarlett outside and she rubs her arms, though when I feel her she isn't cold at all.

"That was weird," She mumbles thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I really don't know what Embry's problem is," I sigh. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Scarlett asks. I peer down at her to see her scrunching her forehead at me. "I meant how _you_ acted towards him."

Now this, I was not expecting. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, he didn't really say anything wrong. They were making me feel uncomfortable, and I didn't think it was funny either."

My words falter. Had that actually… upset her?

"I- You know they were just kidding around with you, honey."

"I know," She sighs. "I'm not mad at them for it, I just would have preferred if they stopped."

"I asked them to stop!" I say a little too loudly, though when she winces I immediately bite down my anger and stroke the side of her cheek. "Scarlett, even if I get upset, I'm never going to hurt you, you know that, right?"

Scarlett smiles and stares at me for a moment. "I know. I don't mean to wince."  
Now I am the one to smile, though mine is much sadder than hers; I still don't know why her first response is to wince, and I just get the feeling that I really wouldn't ever want to.

"I'm really sorry if they upset you." I place my hands in my front pockets. "I didn't know, or else I would have stopped them."

"They didn't upset me," She sighs. "They just-," Scarlett stops midsentence and then nervously places a piece of hair behind her ear. "I don't usually get embarrassed when people pick on me. I actually think it's kind of fun. It's just," She sighs and looks towards the ground. I have no idea where this is going, but the one thing that I do know is that I hate her obvious, momentary lack of confidence. "Y-y-y," She shakes her head. "Nevermind."

"Tell me," I urge, not wanting to push her because I know from previous experience that is the single worst way to get her to open up, but wanting answers none-the-less. "You can tell me anything," I soften my voice and rub the back of my thumb against her cheek.

Scarlett sighs and then kisses me, her action surprising me, to say the least. I kiss her back, though I make sure to keep it soft this time. "Paul," She whispers when she has pulled away. I can feel her breath on my lips, making me want to lie her down and have my way with her. "How many girls have you slept with?"

My heart sinks.

I feel like I just got punched in the gut.

"What?"

I pull away from her to look her in the eyes; where the hell did this come from?

Scarlett bites the inside of her cheek, not to be confused as when she bites the corner of her lip, which usually isn't a bad thing; the inside cheek biting is almost always grounds for a panic.

"I'm not trying to be mean," She speaks softly. "I'm just wondering."

"Why would you wonder that?" I ask her.

Scarlett gives me a condescending expression. "Why do you think?"

I shrug. I honestly have no idea.

She rolls her eyes. "You are so full of testosterone it is disgusting."

"What?"

"Can I have a number?" She pushes.

"Scarlett," I shake my head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because," I struggle to find the right way to say this but I come up blank. "Just no."

"But I want to know," She continues.

"Scarlett," I warn.

"Why won't you tell me?" She exclaims.

"Because it will hurt you."

Scarlett's eyes soften, though not the good kind of softening this time. For a second there I think I may see a tear condense in the corner of her eye, though in a second she swallows it down. "Jesus Christ," She mumbles as she peers towards the ground and kicks a rock with her shoe.

"Scarlett," I reach for her face and pull her towards me so that she has to look at me. I stare right into those huge, ocean blue eyes as I speak to her, hoping that my words will somehow infiltrate through those eyes and into her brain. " _You_ are the only girl that I want. You are the only girl that I ever will want. Just you."

Her forehead scrunches in confusion.

"What?" I finally ask. I don't really understand what I left to be disputed in that ridiculous brain of hers.

"Would you just tell me?" She explodes.

"Scarlett," I moan. "I'm not telling you. It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does." She juts her lower lip and then she drops her head towards the ground again. "You have… experience. I don't have any."

"What?" I nearly laugh, but thankfully I stop myself. "I don't care. Like I said earlier, I like you innocent." I try to kiss her but she pulls away.

"You're not getting it," She grumbles and crosses her arms overtop of her chest. She refuses to look at me.

"Scarlett," I sigh. "Why are you insecure? Hm? Do you understand how absolutely insane it is for you to be insecure? You're like an entirely different species to me than any of those other girls."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah I most definitely am," She mumbles.

"That's a good thing," I kiss her forehead.

"No it's really not."

I falter. "Would you prefer to be morally flimsy?"

"I'm not saying that I want to be a slut, Paul," She rolls her eyes. "Those girls they- they- i-it's not just that you slept with all those girls, it's that I haven't done _anything_. I have no idea what- what- how am I supposed to compete with that? I'm not going to know how to do-," Her voice trails off and her cheeks flash a brilliant shade of read, kind of poetic due to her name, as it finally clicks.

I want to immediately reassure her, to say something that shows her how ridiculous her trail of thought is, but for some reason, I get the overwhelming feeling that I really need to think about what I am going to say before I say it, which is _not_ the usual for me.

Right now, all that I can think to do is not speak at all. I kiss her hastily, and then when she doesn't freak out or slap me or run away I deepen the kiss. I want her to feel everything that I feel for her; I want her to understand and know in her gut that I have never ever, ever kissed another girl this way. I want to be able to say with a kiss what I can't say with my words. I want to kiss her differently than I ever have before.

Scarlett falls into me, and I immediately love the way that the waft of air that comes in my direction smells entirely of her, sweet but sexy at the same time.

I pull away while she is still breathing heavily; when I have her in this state it is easier for me to get through to her. She doesn't have as many walls up.

"Scarlett, you have absolutely no one to compete with. I am yours for as long as you'll have me."

Scarlett opens her eyes and examines me for a second. I'm not sure how to portray honesty through my eyes, but I sure as hell try. Her lip pulls up at the corner and I can't help but smile. Thank God. "So I can give you back?"

I frown.

Scarlett giggles and hugs me again. Her forehead is touching my shoulder when she speaks again. "I'm scared of you," She admits. "I let you in just a little bit and twenty of my walls come down all at once. No one's ever been able to do that before," She hesitates, "I've never wanted anyone to do that before until-,"

She doesn't have to finish that sentence for me to know what she is saying.

I pull her away from me, just a little bit though, and tilt my face down so that I can kiss her, softly and slowly and gently.

"Let me in," I whisper into her mouth.

"I'm trying," Scarlett breathes.

I smile right back, and of course I kiss her again…

I will always kiss her again.

* * *

And that's a wrap for chapter 15! I had a scene that I wanted to put right after this and actually started writing it, but ended up taking it out and decided to put it in the next chapter. I just thought this was a perfect place to stop and if I had added more the cohesiveness would have been disrupted.

So, expect another chapter tomorrow (most likely). I may even post this chapter as a part 1 depending on how I am feeling!

 ***QUESTION*:** I am wondering what everyone's thoughts are on the rating? I have had it as teen since the beginning, but as I am getting closer to some steamier scenes, I need to decide before I really dive in if I want to bump the rating to M or keep it at T. I will still write the fluff with a T rating, but there won't be as much detail and it will be much more of "reader imagines" versus me explaining it. Let me know your opinions so I can decide before I need to write anything physical!

As always, please follow this story if you want to recieve alerts when I update, and let me know what you thought of this chapter in the reviews bellow. Things got steamier this chapter, people, I hope you're liking it as much as I am enjoying writing it! xoxo


	16. Discoveries Part 2

Hi guys! Can't say much without giving anything away soooooo buckle your seat-belts!

Also: I decided that since the beginning of their love story is so tame, I am going to keep the overall rating at T and then just alert everyone when the story turns to M at a somewhat good stopping point for whomever doesn't want to read anything too steamy. :)

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"This is the best part!" I pull Kim's hands off of her eyes and force her to watch the climax of the horror movie we have on.

Currently, Nessie, Kim and I are all cuddled together on the couch, watching a movie as all the guys are out on a run; I had actually wanted to run, but Nessie practically forced me to stay in and watch this movie with her, which doesn't even make sense because neither her or Kim seem to like horror at all. I still don't understand why we all couldn't have just gone on a run then watched the movie as a group, but what do I know?

"How do you like this?" Nessie squeals and buries her face into my shoulder.

"How do you not?" I giggle.

"I still don't know why you prefer this freaky massacre movie over the Notebook."

I roll my eyes. "People relax, okay? I love romance movies, I just love horror movies more. Did I ever tell you guys that the first time Paul and I hung out we watched Titanic?"

"What?" Kim blurts and then bursts out laughing.

"How did you not tell me this?" Nessie laughs.

"It never came up!" I giggle.

"Did you guys, like, watch the sex scene?"

I blush. "Maybe?"

"Oh my God!" Kim jumps up. "Was it awkward?"

"No?" I respond uneasily. "Should it have been?"

"Oh come on! You're trying to tell me that you didn't do that whole red face tomato thing that you always do whenever anyone brings up you and Paul being an item?"

My mouth drops. "I do _not_ do that!" I exclaim.

"Whatever," Kim shoos my excuse. "I need to hear more about this."

"Give us details, evil!" Nessie grasps my arm.

I roll my eyes. "You are so dramatic," I tell her and then shake off her grasp. "Look, it wasn't that big of a deal. We had pizza and ate candy and then when it came time for a movie he wanted me to pick and I joked about picking Titanic and he was all in so we watched that and then I fell asleep and he put me to bed."

They both blink at me a few times. "Like, you mean he _took_ you to bed?" Kim clarifies and Nessie nods her head as to say that Kim's explanation makes complete sense.

"Ugh, no," I look back and forth at their confused faces.

"So you didn't, like, kiss or… anything?" Kim asks.

"No?"

"Wow!" She sits back on the couch and then looks over at Nessie. "So this is Paul Lahote in love. I kind of like it!"

"I know isn't it great?" Nessie exclaims.

"Ugh, no, we are not- ugh, he does not love me," I giggle nervously.

"Oh honey," Kim rolls her eyes. "That boy loves you, trust me."

"Um, no he doesn't," I say, though I am not sure if I am trying to convince them or myself at this point.

"She has no idea," Nessie giggles, and in an instant Kim is laughing again. I frown and look at both of them angrily; sometimes I just get the feeling that I am not in on some private, personal joke that they all know except me.

Kim screams so loud it causes all of us to scream, and then I remember that the movie is still, in fact, on.

We all burst into laughter and then reposition ourselves comfortably all tangled together. I know it is cheesy, but I can't help but smile to myself at the two girls next to me; I never had friends like this. I like it so much I hate to admit how much I like it.

* * *

"Mmm," I mumble sleepily as I just faintly feel something hot pressing into my back.

"Yeah, that's my leg," I hear Kim say, a little too loudly.

I moan again and rub the back of my hand overtop of my eyes.

"Sorry."

I smile to myself. There is no denying that low, sexy voice of my Pauley.

"She's so weird," I hear Nessie say. "Who falls asleep during Saw?"

"How was your run? How are things back home?" Kim asks.

"Shhhh," I hear someone say from the distance.

"She's sleeping," Kim whispers back.

Paul finally manages to detangle me from Nessie and Kim and readjusts my shirt so that it completely covers my back before pulling me into his arms.

I don't make any inclination that I am awake; I love the feeling of swaying side to side as Paul carries me to bed. Actually- no, I take it back, I just love the fact that Paul is putting me to bed; it's surprisingly sexy.

I feel my back touch the mattress and immediately miss the ridiculous amount of heat that was radiating from Paul's hands onto my body. Paul slowly pulls the comforter onto me and then kisses the side of my head.

I can't stop myself from smiling.

"You're awake?" He asks me with a small laugh.

I smile with my eyes still closed and wrap my arms around his neck. He smells like cologne and sweat.

I giggle. "You're sweaty."

"I just went on a run, honey," He sloppily kisses my cheek. "I'm going to go take a shower."

"Great I'll come."

Paul freezes.

I giggle. "Kidding."

Paul sighs. "You just think you're so funny, don't you."

I nod my head and then flip over onto my stomach and hug the pillow to my chest. Paul runs his fingers through my hair and then kisses the back of my head.

"Mm, that feels good," I murmur to him.

Paul starts strumming his fingers through my hair again and then strokes his finger along my shoulder. "I'll do it all night after I get out of the shower," He tells me softly.

"Okay."

I smile to myself and let the sound of the shower drift me off into sleep.

It isn't until Paul returns, smelling dangerously delicious with annoyingly cute wet hair that I am pulled from my deep sleep. Though I am barely awake, I am awake enough to turn and mold myself to him.

Paul and I have never actually slept overnight in the same bed before; I'm not sure how to do it, but oddly enough, I kind of just act without having to think. I press my face into his chest and he slips one arm under the pillow above me and the other hand begin running through my hair.

I sigh contently and smile into his warm chest.

I could get used to this.

* * *

Okay.

When I said I could get used to this, I may have spoken too soon.

I wake up dripping in sweat.

"Dear God!" I whimper to myself as I throw Paul's arm off of me and lay there panting. I kick off all of the covers and lay there with my limbs extended and face towards the ceiling.

I think I may pass out.

While I enjoy Paul's heat during the day, I didn't think about what that heat would do during the night while under covers and on a mattress that literally spreads heat like a small desert in a sauna.

I stand up and actually have to blink a few times to get rid of the black spots.

I need to hydrate.

I go into the bathroom and take deep breaths as I gulp down a cup of water. I turn the faucet so that it is as cold as it can possibly go and then splash it on my face. I cup some water into my hand and then hold it to my forehead. Even after all of that, I either need to strip or take a walk.

I head out of the room and slowly close the door behind me; surely Paul wouldn't notice if I left for a few minutes just to get some air.

As soon as I step outside I immediately feel a waft of relief; even though it is Florida, so the middle of the night is still technically warm, it is the breeze being given off by the ocean that is really helping me right now.

I start to walk towards the back of Nessie's beach house, towards the water, when the woods to my left catch my eye. It is rather odd to me, that on one side there is the beach and the other the woods, but I notice a small path in the side, and decide to take my chances; I know that Paul would freak out if he found out I went into the woods alone because of snakes and such, but right now I don't care.

The path is actually much darker than I expected, though the lampposts from the beach house are making a faint guide for my feet. After a few minutes I hear a crunch to my left and then freeze. I stand there for a few seconds, although I don't really know what standing frozen would do to help me if I was about to be attacked by an animal, and listen. After a few minutes of not hearing anything more, I turn.

As soon as I turn, my eyes connect with a figure… a _man's_ figure.

I don't know how I know it is him, but I just do. Something in my bones is telling me this, and I immediately know that I have to run, I _need_ to run, but I can't.

He turns.

I ready myself for impact.

Oh.

Oh my God.

I press my hands to my face in relief; the heat must be getting to me. I am about to call out to Embry, I mean, he must have noticed me leave and followed to make sure that I was safe, when my voice is stolen out of me.

Embry jumps into the air, and suddenly…

"Ahhhh!" I scream and jump back.

Embry- no- the wolf- no- Embry- no- the wolf whips around to stare at me and so, so, so, so, so big and I am shaking and I keep blinking my eyes over and over and over again because I am 150% sure this has to be a dream.

That looked like- no, that's just not possible!

It is entirely impossible, but that looked exactly like Embry just turned into a wolf, a _very_ large wolf, a _huge_ wolf.

The wolf darts to the left and out of sight and I jump.

In a second Embry steps back onto the path, closer to me this time.

I scream.

"Scarlett," He says, taking a step closer.

"No!" I scream, throwing my hand out at the same time that my breathing grows quicker.

What the fuck just happened.

"You- you- you- you," I know what I want to say but my brain can't seem to form the words as I continuously point at him.

"Scarlett, please, calm down, okay?" He takes another step closer and I jump back. I trip on a twig and go falling to the ground. I scrape my knee and catch myself with my hands so those hurt too, but that is the last thing I am thinking about.

"You okay?" Embry asks with even more panic.

"You- you- you-" No. No way. This can't be real. "I- I- I- I-," I look around for some help, but it never comes. I need to get out of here, to get some air; the trees are closing me in, I can't see the sky. Embry is too close. "I c-c-c-c-a-a-a-nt b-b-breathe."

The room, no, the trees, no, _everything_ begins to close in around me and I can't move and I can't breathe and I can't think and I am going to pass out.

I place my head between my legs and will myself to breathe. I am not even gasping, I just can't breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

I feel hot hands touch my body and I try to fight it but I can't think I can't think I can't think I can't think.

I need to breathe.

I can't breathe.

I need to breathe.

"Paul!" Someone shouts, though the sound is merely a ringing in my ears.

My vision is getting blurry.

The heat leaves my body.

I have no idea what is happening.

Breathe.

Breathe.

I need to breathe.

But I can't breathe.

I hear sounds, voices, multiple voices, everywhere, loud and yelling then softer but I can't focus or listen or see.

I blink my eyes and one second nothing is there and the next I see the faint outline of Paul.

"Breathe!" He tells me, his voice like a bell.

I feel heat on the sides of my face.

"I said breathe! Breathe Scarlett, breathe!"

I try but I literally can't even gasp.

I am about to pass out.

I know it is coming but I can't even say it.

"She's blue!" Someone says, the voice a higher ring and I wonder who it belongs to.

And then I can't feel anything at all.

I didn't even realize I passed out until the ringing in my ears faded and I realized Paul was rubbing my back.

"Wh-wh-what happened?" I ask, rubbing the side of my head as I take deep breaths. Paul is holding me up while I feel someone fanning my back and then turn to see Nessie waving a magazine at me with my shirt pulled up.

"What-what- ahh!"

I jump back and my eyes scan the room for Embry. As soon as I see him I scream again. "He- he- he-,"

"Okay." Paul slides me across the table that I am facing him and then looks at me. "Just breathe and relax. Got it?"

"Relax?" I scream. "He turned into an animal!"

Paul sighs and the rest of the room has about the same reaction.

"I'm sorry," My mouth drops as I look around the room at the group of people that do not seem to be understanding the gravity of this particular situation. "Are all of you not grasping the fact that I just witnessed Embry turn into a fucking bear?"

"Wolf," Embry corrects me.

My mouth drops.

"Yeah not helping dude," Paul smiles tightly at him.

"Wolf?" I gasp. "So it's true? I'm not insane?"

"Of course you're not insane, honey," Paul says softly.

"Oh my God." I suddenly realize that though it is good that I am not mental, there is an entirely different reason to panic now. "You turned into a wolf!"

"Scarlett, relax."

"No don't tell me to relax," I spit as I push Paul away, hard.

His eyes widen and when I look around the room I see a lot of similar expressions. "I-I'm sorry," I say, softer this time. "I just, what's going on?"

Paul's eyes drop and he seems to notice my cut up knee. He sighs and reaches under the sink to grab a first aid kit and then sets it on the table next to me.

"You're seriously going to worry about a scrape right now?" I can't hide my disbelief.

"Nope," Paul lifts my knee to examine it. "I'm going to worry about it while I explain to you what's going on."

I stare at him. Why is he being so flippant about this? "Why are you being so flippant about this?"

He looks at the rest of the room and then nods his head. "I think I can handle this. Everyone go back to bed. Thanks for your help."

"You can handle this?" I can't help but scoff. "Excuse me!"

"Would you relax," Paul steadies his gaze with mine.

"Paul Lahote, tell me to relax one more time and see what happens!"

"Okay, okay." Paul wipes my knee with an alcohol pad and I wince back. "Sorry." He leans down and blows on the cut, and I just stare at him.

Am I still dreaming?

Yes, that must be it.

I start laughing and then I grab my face between my hands. "I'm dreaming," I laugh. "I am totally dreaming and this is insane and I am dreaming." I throw my hands in the air and then lie back against the table.

Paul is looking at me like I have lost it. "Okay, now that you're here though," I let my voice trail off and then slowly begin to push up my shirt. If this is a dream after all, I might as well take advantage of it.

Paul's hands stop mine and I look up to see his eyes wide. "You're not dreaming, Scar."

I sit up with a sigh and roll my eyes. "You're even annoying in my dream," I mumble and then go to pull my shirt off.

"Scarlett!" He scolds, laughs, and then pulls it back down. "You're not dreaming, now would you please stop trying to take your clothes off?"

My mouth drops. "So this is… real?"

"Yes," Paul laughs.

"How is this funny?" I demand.

"Sweetheart, rela-," He stops before he is able to finish and widens his eyes.

Good.

"So, since this isn't a dream," I continue as Paul places a band aid on my knee. "Are you going to talk to me about your best friend turning into an animal?"

Paul smiles, "Of course." He places both of his hands on my knees. "What do you want to know?"

My mouth drops. "What do you mean 'What do I want to know?'," I exclaim, "I just saw Embry turn into a _wolf._ A _wolf_!"

"I know honey." Paul places a piece of hair behind my ear and then sighs.

"So you knew about this?" I exclaim.

Paul nods.

"Did everyone?"

He skips a beat, but eventually he nods again.

I gulp. "B-b-b-but… how? This doesn't even make any sense how did- how, ugh!"

Paul reaches for my hands and then examines them. They both are red but they aren't actually cut.

"Scarlett," He begins, his voice soft as his eyes switch up to mine.

"What?" I whisper.

"What do we call ourselves?"

I blink. "What?"

He kisses me gently, probably trying to calm me, not that that's happening. "What do we call ourselves, all my friends and I?"

"I don't even know what this has to do with-," My eyes widen.

Oh my God.

 _Oh my God._

 _Oh my fucking God._

They call themselves a pack.

 _They call themselves a pack._

I stand up, oddly calm for what I just learned, and slowly walk out of the kitchen.

"Scarlett?" Paul calls after me.

I walk into our bedroom.

I close the door.

And I lock it.

Holy shit.

* * *

I spent the duration of the entire next day in my room.

It _killed_ me, having to sit in my room while the beach was right outside, but I honestly just needed some time to collect my thoughts.

Paul is a werewolf, he is a fucking werewolf, and his friends are too.

Suddenly, I had so many questions, and the funny thing is that I'm not even afraid. I mean, a part of me feels like I am supposed to be freaked out, but I'm honestly just… not. There was always something different about them, and it's Paul and Seth and Jacob and Embry and Quil and Sam and Jared, they would never hurt me.

I took a shower and then I took a bath and then I cried for a little and now here I am, being dragged along the beach with Paul Lahote because he practically threatened to let Kim and Nessie loose on me to do my hair and makeup if I didn't put a dress on and leave the beach house with him.

Is it insane that I am more mad at him for not telling me than for him actually being a werewolf?

"Scarlett?" Paul tries for the tenth time.

I ignore him…. Again.

"Scarletica?"

"What do you want Paul?" I finally explode, crossing my arms tighter across my chest and staring towards the sand.

"Don't you have any questions, honey?"

I can't help but laugh. "Do I have questions about you being a werewolf with your friends? Hm, I don't know Paul, what do _you_ think?"

Paul sighs. "Hit me."

I smack his arm and he laughs and rubs it. "I meant hit me with your questions not your hand."

I don't respond, though I knew what he meant.

"Come on, Scar," He speaks, softer now. "I gave you today to process it. Would you please talk to me? I'm worried you're in shock"

I drop my gaze and bite the inside of my cheek. "Why should I? It's not like you talked to me."

"What?" Paul asks after a moment.

"Why didn't you tell me about being a werewolf, Paul?" I finally explode. "Everyone else knew, _everyone else_. Yeah I get it I am not the most emotionally stable person right now but I think you could trust me enough to tell me this and know I'm not going to go into the psych ward."

Paul's mouth drops. "That's not why I didn't tell you, Scar."

"Whatever," I mumble angrily.

"So, let me just get this straight," He laughs. I narrow my eyes at him. "You're upset not because I'm a werewolf, but because I didn't tell you about being one?"

I blink at him.

"Alright," Paul scratches the back of his head. "Well, do you have any questions?"

I purse my lips. I want to ignore him, I really do, but I actually _do_ have questions. "Is that why you're all like 800 degrees?" I mumble the question, so that somehow it is like less of a question if I didn't ask it as loud.

"108 degrees actually." Paul nudges my shoulder but I don't respond. I tuck myself together and look towards the floor.

"The… size?"

"Yes, that too," Paul responds a little softer.

"Why?" is all I can think to ask.

"Well," Paul sighs, "We basically are protectors of humans. So, on the reservation, we protect the people that live there, and make sure that there aren't any bad people hurting anyone."

I blink a few times. "So that's it?"

Paul looks at me odd. "What?"

"So you turn into a wolf, and the only thing you do is protect people?"

Paul smiles. "What did you expect, Scar?"

"Nothing," I mumble to myself.

"There's more that I can-,"

"Please," I hold up my hand to stop him. "I don't want to know anything more right now." I feel like my head is about to explode.

We walk the rest of the way in silence.

A few miles down the beach we get to Paul's destination, which just happens to be some sort of party on the beach with music and dancing and a fire. I stare at the bonfire, reminding me so much of the bonfires at Jacob's house and shake my head.

"What am I doing?" I blurt, not even meaning to.

"What?" Paul leans towards me.

"What am I doing?" I grab the sides of my head. "This- this can't work. You're a, you're a," I look around nervously, "You're _that_ , and I'm me. I've got my own issues and this is just… this is just not good timing. This is just wrong. What is wrong with me? Why would I ever come onto vacation with you?"

Paul stares at me for a few seconds. Finally, he holds out his hand. "Dance with me."

"What? No."

Paul reaches for my hand and pulls me to him anyways. "Please, just stop."

I bite the inside of my cheek and then stop fighting him.

What the hell is wrong with me?

What the hell is wrong with us?

This could never work.

This will never work.

"Scarlett." Paul's voice is merely a whisper in my ear. It makes the hair stand up on my arms but a sense of calmness flow through my body. I pull away to look at him. His face is closer than I thought, and I can smell his aftershave. My eyes dart to his mouth for a moment, his too, too red lips pulling my attention until I am captivated by his eyes. I can't look away. "If you let me in, I promise that you will never have to be afraid ever again. I promise that I will protect you, always, and I'll always put you first. I promise to take care of you. And I promise to love you, always, unconditionally, and tell you that every day, for the rest of my life."

Tears condense in the corners of my eyes without my permission. My mouth parts and I can't look away. No one has ever spoken to me like that before; no one has ever treated me like Paul treats me. And he loves me, he loves _me_. It makes all the doubt that I just convinced myself that I need to believe just float away from me.

My forehead crinkles as I try to keep the tears in. I don't want to cry, but I'm not thinking about controlling myself anymore; I'm not thinking at all anymore. His eyes have taken me as his prisoner and his words have chained me up.

"I want to love you," I beg him with my eyes for him to understand. My vision gets blurry. "But I don't know how." I let out a short, quick breath as Paul smiles at me. He runs his fingers gently through the side of my hair.

"You're already doing it."

I shake my head. "I don't know to love someone, Paul." I whisper, all my walls down and my heart speaking for me.

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care." I shake my head. "That's the truth." I swallow and my vision gets blurry again. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Scarlett," Paul closes his eyes for a moment. "The only thing that could ever hurt me, would be not being with you."

I suck in a shaky breath and feel a tear fall down my cheek. His eyes bead into mine and I try to silently say the things that I can't put into words.

"But how do I know?"

"It's this." Paul runs his thumb along the side of my face, swiping away my tear, and then brushes his fingers along my collarbone. My breath catches in my throat and he smiles. "And do you feel this?" He entwines his fingers with mine and I watch the way that our skin, his dark and mine tan, melt together.

I take a shaky breath.

"And do you remember, how it felt the first time we danced? How my hand touched your waist."

I don't respond, but I don't have to, of course I remember.

"How about this?" He kisses me softly, slowly, passionately. My heartbeat isn't in my throat, it is nonexistent.

He speaks into my mouth when he pulls away; my eyes are still closed. "You've never felt it so you're rejecting it. Let yourself feel it. Let me in."

"How do I do that?" I finally let out with a cry hidden by a breath. "If you tell me how I'll do it." I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head.  
Paul presses his hands to the sides of my face and kisses my forehead. The heat from his kiss lingers on my skin.

"Tell me the truth," He tells me slowly, his voice tickling at my ear again. "Tell me why you don't want anyone to touch you. Tell me why you cringe when I get too close. Tell me where you got those burns that you try to hide from. Tell me why as soon as you get close to me, you find an excuse to push me away again."

I bite the inside of my cheek and honestly just contemplate whether I am capable of doing that or not. I know that what he is saying is right; I don't care that he is a wolf, I really don't, but I pretend that I do. I pretend that I do so that I have an excuse, some sort of validation as to why I will leave him.

"Paul," I say, and I wait until he looks at me so that I can make sure he understands me. "I don't know if I will be able to do that."

Paul pulls me close quickly. I gasp as our bodies touch and his eyes bare into mine. "You underestimate yourself. I'm tired of it. You can do _anything_ Scarlett. We can do anything. There's no one holding you back. There's nothing physically wrong with you making you not able to speak. The only one holding you back is yourself."

My mouth parts.

"Stop telling me what to do, Paul Lahote."

I meant that seriously, but Paul laughs gently, his chest vibrating against mine just slightly. "But I love it. I love _you_. Can't you feel that?"

"I don't feel anything," I lie.

"Now you're lying to me."

I let out a breath of defeat. "How come I can lie to everyone else, but it is impossible to lie to you?"

"Because you love me," He answers simply.

"God, you and that word," I shake my head.

"So you don't feel it? You don't feel this?" He runs his hand down the entire length of my back and I shiver. "You don't feel… this?" Paul takes my cheek between his hand and just stares at me. "This?" He takes my hand, the same one that was already entwined with mine, and presses it to his heart. I think it is right then that I realized we never stopped dancing.

Of course I do.

"No."

"Than prove it," Paul shakes his head. "If you feel nothing, then walk away. Walk away from me right now. Because as much as you push me away, you don't want me to go anywhere. You don't want me to go anywhere because you love me, you love me just like I love you."

"You're half animal. What the hell do you know about love?" My lips pull up at the corners and Paul's slowly form into a small smile. "Come with me," I whisper into his ear and then reach for his hand.

We walk along the edge of the water, the music fading and the lights fading along with it. I am sure that Paul thinks this may be it, that we may talk and walk and I may just open up and suddenly we're in love and he can get me flowers and we'll be a normal couple, but that's far from the truth.

Paul doesn't understand that half of the issue isn't speaking it, it's showing it. It's hard to speak it because it all happened physically.

Once we reach a spot far enough from the party but close enough to still hear a little bit of the music, and then I drop his hand and sigh, placing my hands on my hips and looking around, making sure that we are alone.

"Perfect."

I unzip the back of my dress and let it fall to sand.

Paul's eyes widen. "What are you doing?"

"You wanted the truth. I'm showing you."

His mouth drops. "You think sex is going to fix this? Oh my God, honey you are so confused."

"Paul!" I can't help but laugh. "I'm not trying to have sex with you, you crazy man." I let out a long breath and look out towards the water. "You want to know why you can't touch me? You have to see. You have to see why."

"I don't understand."

I sigh and reach for his hand, pulling it and placing it right below my bra, towards the side, on my right side. I think we both know what is right there. I feel his fingers move to find the three, circular, nearly healed burns and close my eyes when he does so.

Paul's fingers stroke the side of my face and I will myself not to cry. "Is it… hurting you?"

I shake my head. "It doesn't hurt, per say. It feels kind of like, l-like my body remembers it and t-tenses up and um, g-gets c-confused."

"What happened?" He continues.

I shake my head and pull away. "I can't give you details; I- I might not ever be able to give anyone details but, but let me just- let me just do this." I pull his hand lower, to right above the waistband of my underwear and feel his fingers connect with the long, crooked scar and trace it straight across.

My breathing grows unsteady.

I put his hand on the other side, and slip it under my arm, on the underside of the top of my arm are five more circular burns. These are actually physically painful, the memories coming back like a cyclone as he touches each one of these.

I turn around and take a steadying breath before I unclasp my bra and feel my back completely exposed. I don't have to move for him to be able to feel these; he had, had fun with these. At first they were deep, but overtime they had faded, and now they are barely recognizable, but there is a definite dip in the skin where each cut came.

I close my eyes as he touches every one. There are five, that much I know, all straight and right after each other and crossing the entire length of my back.

"What are these?"

I don't answer.

"Why?" He changes his question.

"Five for each year I had been alive. They were my birthday present."

He pulls his hand away and then I re-clasp my bra and take a long, deep breath. Paul is looking at me like he just watched someone murder a puppy.

"Don't look at me like that," I shake my head. "Please."

Paul nods and then looks towards the sand. My eyes soften and I reach for his hand again. I press his palm to the side of my stomach and run it all the way across my skin. I pull his hand away and then do the same thing two more times until the entire length of my stomach is finished.

I turn around and unclasp my bra again. "Do the same thing," I instruct him softly.

It takes a few seconds, but eventually I feel Paul's hot hands stroking against my skin. I close my eyes; now this actually feels good. He finishes and I repeat the step of re-clasping my bra and then turning back around.

"What was that?" He asks slowly.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "The thing is, that most times, very infrequently," I twiddle with my fingers and peer down towards the floor. I take a deep breath; I need to figure out a perfect way to phrase this, but then I realize, there is no perfect way to phase the truth, it's just the truth.

"I don't have many scars. Scars are proof, and scars are evidence. If they fade, they hurt just as bad and then they go away, almost like they never existed."

Paul scrunches his forehead at me. "What does that mean?"

"Before I came here," I break to take a steadying breath. "There was never a time when my stomach and my b-back weren't covered in bruises."

Paul's mouth parts but I don't look away.

"I only told someone once and it made it worse I didn't ever tell again."

Paul reaches for my face and pulls me closer. He strokes the sides of my face over and over and over again and I close my eyes. I feel safe when he holds me like this. "Who's doing this to you, baby?"

"Did this," I push him away, and then I immediately feel bad. I entwine my hand with Paul's. "He's not hurting me anymore."

"Who?" Paul pushes.

I moan. "Paul, at this point can't you just guess? My voice is about to stop working." I try to laugh but it doesn't happen.

"Was it… a family member?" He asks gently.

I gulp and nod my head.

Paul nods. "They didn't… touch you or anything? Did they?"

"No," I answer quickly. "No- just, no."

He breathes a breath of relief. "Who hurt you?" He whispers.

I stare at him.

"Immediate family?"

I nod my head. I don't know why, but there is something deep inside of me that makes hearing this truth, that makes saying it seem so, indisputably wrong. It makes me feel like I am a little girl stealing out of the cookie jar, as ridiculous as that sounds.

"Who?"

"Paul," I complain. "It's the most obvious one."

Paul appears taken aback. "Your… dad?"

"Step-father," I correct him so hastily that he jumps just a little bit. I soften my voice. "Step-father," There is no keeping the venom out of my voice. He isn't my dad. He isn't my blood, either.

"Scarlett." Paul reaches out to touch me but then seems to not know what to do and pull his hand back.

I burst into tears.

"This is one of the reasons why I didn't want you to know," I sob, placing my head in my hands and shaking it from side to side.

"Wait, Scarlett, come on." He grabs my sides and pushes me to his chest. I am engulfed in a blanket of warmth and cinnamon with Paul rubbing my shoulders. "I didn't mean anything by it, honey. I just- I- I don't want to hurt you."

I cry even harder.

"It's not you," I moan. "Now do you understand what I meant when I said that it wasn't ever you?"

He kisses the side of my head. "Now I understand a lot, Scar."

I sniffle. "Do you still like me?"

Paul suddenly pulls me away from him and looks at me like I have just lost my mind. "Are you insane?" He asks, and then when I jump he softens his voice and runs a finger along the side of my face. "I know you're not insane, sweetheart, but why would you ever think that? I don't just like you, I love you. I love you always. I may want to kill that guy," His jaw tenses before my eyes, "But," He lets out a breath as he shakes violently.

"Paul?" I question, suddenly nervous.

"Just, Scarlett step back," He demands, his voice authoritative as it comes out as more of a growl than a sound. My eyes widen as his entire body begin to violently shake; I swear I can see smoke coming out of his nose.

"Paul?" I squeak, on the verge of tears yet again. What is going on?

Paul's eyes meet mine and then his body stops shaking. His shoulders slump and then he rubs his palm against his forehead.

"I'm sorry," He says, all the usual sweetness back in his voice. "Baby come here."

I timidly step forward and then he holds his hands out and I actually run into them. Paul holds me tightly and kisses the side of my head not once, or twice, but three times.

"I'll kill him," He tells me, his body shaking once but nothing like before. "I'll kill him."

"You're not killing anyone," I speak into his shirt. "Don't be ridiculous."

"How could someone hurt you?" He asks, his voice sounds pained.

"Paul?" I pull away and see his eyes glassy. "Are you… crying?"

"Hell no," He blinks them rapidly and then stands up straighter.

I giggle. "Oh, okay."

"I just don't- I- I can't think about it," He shakes his head. "Later. I can think about it later when I'm not with you and when I can shift and run and kill something."

My eyes widen.

"Like a bear or something," He clarifies.

I frown. "Please don't tell me you kill innocent animals, Paul."

He blinks at me.

I punch his shoulder.

"What?" He asks, staring at my hand and then reaching for it. "Don't do that again; you might hurt yourself."

I roll my eyes. "Don't kill animals. I'm serious."

"We'll talk about this later," He sighs.

"No, we'll talk about this now."

I cross my arms overtop of my chest and narrow my eyes at him.

Paul looks me up and down and then smiles to himself. "You are seriously adorable trying to look tough in your underwear."

I suddenly remember that I don't have any clothes on and reach for my dress on the ground.

"Wait," Paul holds his hand out. "Come here."

I smile a small smile at him and then he pulls me close. Before I even realize what is happening, Paul lifts me up and then holds me to his chest with my legs on either side of his torso and his forearms crossed underneath my butt.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Just relax," He smiles guiltily at me and I roll my eyes; I guess I'll let that "relax" go.

As soon as he starts walking towards the water I realize what he is doing. With a silent laugh I reach for the buttons of his shirt and then unbutton all of them, staring at the bottom and working my way to the top. Once it is unbuttoned I giggle as he somehow manages to maneuver his arms to get the shirt off without dropping me and then I nearly back-flop against the water as I use all my strength to throw it on the beach, though Paul manages to catch me and pull me back up.

We get to the point where the water is covered up to his chest and just my head is out of the water.

"You must be really tired; I know how much it took for you to tell me that." Paul kisses the top of my head. "Sleep. Please."

I smile and rest my cheek against his bare, warm, warm chest and tuck my hands underneath me.

I close my eyes.

I am tired, but I need to say something first.

"Paul?" I sigh.

"Yes?"

"I'm not upset you're a werewolf. I mean, it freaked me out at first, but it doesn't really change anything. And I'm not mad about you not telling me either, because I didn't tell you about me until now, so I can't really be mad about that." I yawn and Paul laughs and pushes my back to him.

"I think you're slightly delusional from lack of sleep, Scar."

I nod my head against his chest. "Will you tell me more about it tomorrow?"

"Of course," Paul whispers into my ear.

I need to shut my eyes and shut off.

And for the first time, when I wake up, I will no longer be alone.

* * *

WHEW! Okay so Scarlett learned about the werewolf thing and Paul learned about the abuse she suffered... a lot for one chapter! Now the hard part, details! I can't wait to hear what you all thought!

Review for an update!


	17. Safe

I don't think I've ever been so excited to post a chapter... This is in Scarlett's POV again but I promise the next one will be Paul's! Enjoy!

 **IMPORTANT NOTE: This is the chapter in which the story goes from T to M, so, for any young readers I would either stop here or be prepared to skip through some inappropriate scenes!**

 **I will keep the overall rating at T because for the majority of the story (ch 1-16) it is very PG.**

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Paul," I whisper.

He mumbles in his sleep but doesn't move.

"Paul!" I call again, poking his chest.

He frowns and then bats his eyes open. "Scarlett?" He grumbles. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I speak quickly. I flip over onto my stomach and then lean towards him. "When did you first become a werewolf?"

Paul blinks his eyes a few times. "A few years ago," he responds, his voice gruff from sleep.

"Did you know what was happening? Did you freak out? Did it hurt? Does it still hurt?"

"Scarlett," Paul moans and then lifts his head to look at the alarm clock. "It's two am. You haven't slept in two days. Go to sleep."

"But how can I sleep when my boyfriend is a werewolf?" I exclaim.

"By closing your eyes and shutting up," he mumbles.

I giggle. "Does it hurt?" I push.

Paul sighs. With his eyes still closed he answers me. "No it doesn't. It never has."

"Do you still have the same, like, personality when you change into a wolf? Like, do you go full animal or are you still Paul?"

Paul's lips pull up at the corners. "Of course I'm still me, Scar."

Paul grabs my wrist and then pulls me to his chest. I cuddle into his stomach and sigh happily; the fan that Paul brought in and put right next to me makes it so that I can comfortably sleep with him without having a heat stroke.

"Go to sleep." He kisses the top of my head and then rests his chin on my hair.

I close my eyes for five seconds.

"Paul?"

"Scarlett," he moans.

"Do you think about me when you're a wolf?" I ask, quieter this time.

I don't have to be looking at him to hear the smile in his voice. "Scarlett, I always think about you."

"Did you always know you were going to become a werewolf one day?"

He sighs. "No."

"Than how did you not freak out?" I push.

"We're a pack, babe. We're all connected, so when I became a werewolf they could sense it and were waiting for me. The only one who really had it rough was Sam; he was the first one so he had to figure out what was going on himself and by old tribe stories."

"Hm," I ponder this for a moment. "Paul?"

"Yes, Scarlett?"

"Could I become a werewolf?"

I feel his chest vibrate as he laughs. "It doesn't work that way sweetheart. The gene is in your blood from birth."

"Well how do you know I don't have the gene?" I question.

"Last time I checked you have blonde hair, blue eyes and are not Native American, but if it happens for you that would be great."

I pinch his arm and he pulls my hands under my stomach and wraps his arms tightly around me, locking me in and keeping me captive. "Sleep."

"But I'm not tired."

"I don't care," Paul responds. "You haven't slept in 2 days."

"So what do you do?"

Paul let's out a long, exasperated sigh. "What is your question sweetheart?"

"When you're a wolf, what do you, like, do? I mean, I'm sure there isn't always something to protect the human species from. Don't you get bored?"

Paul laughs again. "Well there are some upsides to it as well, baby girl, like being able to run really fast, and being able to connect to a deeper part of myself. It's hard to explain."

"I would like you to try."

"I would like you to go to sleep."

"Do all of you look like Embry? And how do you know you're in a pack? Like, how did you all find each other?"

"Could you please just do what I ask for once in your life?" Paul moans.

"Has anyone ever been kicked out of the pack? Oo, are there any bad werewolves?" I ask a little too excitedly.

Paul sighs and then seems to give in. I smile to myself. "No we don't all look alike. Like I said we are all connected, so we could sense each other, and no, Scarlett, I do not believe that there have ever been any bad werewolves, though I could look into that for you."

"Yes, please," I respond hastily. "What do you look like Paul?"

"I'm all black," Paul runs his fingers through the ends of my hair. "Not necessarily the most beautiful wolf you've ever seen."

"Are you kidding?" I suddenly sit up and cause Paul to jump back. I flip my leg around his torso and then straddle his stomach as I press my hands into his chest to hold me up. "I love black! Black is hot! And plus you'll always look skinny." I giggle and Paul can't help himself from giggling too.

He rests his hands on my hips and I try not to make any reaction. I bite the corner of my lip to hold it in as he stares at me.

Paul's fingers slide down and lift up my shirt. I'm only wearing underwear, so I blush as he brushes his fingers against the waistband until he finds what he was looking for. Paul traces the scar on my hip bone over and over again, his fingers delicate and light and perfect.

"Do you still not like how that feels?" He asks me softly.

I shake my head. " I like how that one feels," I whisper back.

Paul's fingers begin crawling their way up my stomach, towards the burns on my arm, the ones that do hurt.

I grab his hand tightly. "Don't." I say.

Paul holds my eye contact as he slowly pulls his hand back. He sits up so that I am resting in his lap and wraps his arms around the bottom of my torso.

He lets out a long breath and I bravely run my fingers through the front of his hair as I lean into him. I can't help myself when it's dark and it's Paul and I don't have much clothing on.

"I can't touch the burns?" He clarifies, his voice velvet in the night.

I swallow down something bitter and shake my head.

"Alright," he nods and kisses my cheek.

Suddenly, Paul flips us so that my back crashes into the mattress and he is lying overtop of me. My eyes widen as I immediately feel my thighs tense at the way his muscles flex when he takes authority over me like that.

"Where can I touch you?" His lips pull up at the corners devilishly. "Hmm?" Paul pushes up my shirt and then rolls it so that it ends right before my boobs. My entire stomach to toes are exposed, except for the brief covering of cheeky underwear that I am wearing.

"Can I touch here?" He asks innocently, kissing the middle of my stomach.

I nod my head, heat rushing through my veins at warped speed.

"Yeah?" He asks. "What about here?" Paul kisses down my stomach, following a trial from my belly button down to the seam of my panties. My breath catches in my throat.

Oh my God.

Paul smiles, his white teeth shining in the dark. "And this?" Paul kisses along the entire length of the top of my panties and I actually gasp. I am so embarrassed that I am not able to control the heat between my thighs anymore. I twist my legs together and bite my lip to try to conceal the moan that comes out, which is sincerely impossible.

"Are you getting worked up, baby girl?"

Holy shit.

My mouth drops and I bite my lip and widen my eyes up at the ceiling.

He pulls himself above me and I have to force my eyes away from his muscles that flex and his veins that tense when he lowers himself down. Paul pushes his face up underneath my tee-shirt and I feel him kiss the bottom of my breast.

I make a sound that I can't explain.

He does this all the way across the bottoms of both of them, and then he pulls away and pulls the rolled shirt down, making sure that it is still completely covering me as he kisses my breasts overtop of my shirt.

Paul kisses lightly in a circle, not ever touching the center but teasing me nonetheless. He does the same thing to the other one and then he repeats that again.

I am so turned on I don't even understand the feelings that I am feeling. The heat between my thighs is threatening to overtake me. My head is spinning.

Paul pulls away and I am about to complain when he takes his finger and trails it from my neck all the way down to my belly button.

"How does that feel, Scarlett?"

I'm not sure if my voice will even work when I try to speak. "G-good," I breathe and moan at the same time. Immediately I am embarrassed and I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks.

"Don't be embarrassed," I hear him gently laugh as he rubs the back of his finger against my cheek.

Paul runs his hand down my breast and I let out a breath of surprise. "Oh, baby," he moans as he runs it back up.

"Paul," I moan and tilt my head back and my breaths come out shallow and quick.

"That's right, say my name sweetheart," he says as he kisses me overtop of my shirt.

Suddenly, he encloses his mouth around my nipple and he sucks.

"Oh!" I let out a loud whimper and arch my back. Holy shit.

I have never felt anything like this in my life.

Paul cups my breast in his hand and continues to suck on me. "Mm," I bite the corner of my lip to keep from crying out and try to remind myself to breathe. "Paul," I moan.

"Oh, Scarlett." Paul pulls away from me and then rubs my nipple with his thumb.

"'Mmhm," I bite the center of my lip and lean into him.

Paul moves to the other side and begins to do the same thing overtop of my tee shirt. He cups both of my breasts and squeezes them and I moan loudly.

Paul finishes sucking and then he flicks his tongue against my nipple and then the other one.

Oh. My. God.

I feel like I am about to explode.

Paul breaks from me in the middle of my moan and then kisses up my neck. He presses a finger to my cheek to turn my face towards his and then he kisses me, his lips deep but gentle.

He parts from me and then he waits until I open my eyes to lock our gazes.

"I think we should stop," he whispers.

"What?" My eyes widen and panic flows through my veins, quick and heavy. "W-no. No!"

"Scarlett," Paul shakes his head at me and strokes my hair. "You have no idea how much I want to," he breaks to look down my body. "Fuck," he finally says and then lays his head down on the mattress next to us. "Fuck."

I am still breathing so heavy it is all I can hear. "I want you," I manage to get out.

"I want you too baby," he lifts his head up and strokes my cheek. "So fucking bad I'm barely holding myself back." Paul grits his teeth then lets out a sort of growl.

"Than why are you stopping?" I demand.

"Because," he moans. "I don't want to go too fast."

"Fast?" I almost laugh but I am too out of breath. "Paul, you told me you're a- werewolf and I told you about- me. I think we pretty much decided we're all in at this point."

He doesn't respond for a few seconds, though my body is silently begging him to say yes; I need him. I need him so badly my heart may explode if I don't get him right now.

"Scarlett," He moans and reaches for the back of my head. He grasps my hair and pushes my face towards him, kissing me deeply, and immediately taking my breath away. He pulls away from me and grits his teeth. "You are killing me."

I giggle and kiss him again.

Paul pulls me away and then moans into my hair. "You're, you're," He struggles for a moment. "You're not ready. I don't want to put my physical needs above yours."

"Mmm." I run my finger from his chin down his stomach and he grabs my hand and pulls it back up once I reach his abs.

"Scarlett," He growls.

"I want you," I breathe into his mouth. "Please?"

"Fuck." Paul kneels above me and quickly slides my body down the mattress towards him. "Do you honestly think that I can deny you, when you lay there and look at me like that?"

My eyes widen. "What?" I squeak.

"Those nipples," He murmurs and runs his hands down my chest. "So sexy Scarlett; do you know how sexy you are?"

I bite the corner of my lip. Dear God, who knew that Paul talked so dirty?

Paul reaches for the waistband of his shorts. My eyes widen, when suddenly he stops. He looks down at my body and then his eyes trail the length of me too many times to count. He seems to be having a mental war with himself. "Ugh!" He finally growls and drops his hands. "I can't," He roars, though I'm not sure if he is talking to himself or to me.

Paul drops down so that he is lying on top of me and then begins kissing down my thighs. I gasp as he moves down to one knee and then goes to the other side and kisses from my waist down to my other knee. He runs his hand between my thighs and I moan.

"Open your legs for me, baby," He instructs.

I loosen my thighs so that he can push them open and try to control my nerves.

"You're shaking," He whispers and then runs his palm down my thigh and then back up again.

"Good shaking." I try to take a deep breath.

"You don't need to be scared sweetheart," Paul kisses the inside of my thigh and my breath catches in my throat. "I'm going to take care of you." He kisses me again and then strokes the skin where his hot lips still linger. "I love you, Scarlett."

I bite the center of my lip. "I l-l," I take a deep breath, "I l-l-l-," I moan in frustration.

"Take your time," Paul tells me as he goes back to kissing my thighs. "You can say it, baby girl."

I can't help but smile. Paul knows that I feel it, yet he also knows how hard it is for me to say it. He isn't pulling away and telling me that I'm not ready, he is waiting for me, patiently, while I slowly figure out how to do that. I suddenly can't keep myself from blurting it out.

"I love you," I speak clearly.

Paul pulls up and smiles. He drops his head but keeps his eyes stuck on mine as he kisses the bottom of my stomach. "There's my girl."

I bite my lip. God Paul is hot.

Paul presses my thighs open even more and then slides himself between them. Oh my God. _Oh my God!_ My eyes grow wide as I watch him; is he about to do what I think he is? Paul's lips find the insides of my thighs, but instead of kissing them, he is- wait, is he _sucking_ on them? My mouth drops as he sucks the sensitive skin and my heart flutters into my throat.

Jesus Christ.

He slips his finger beneath the waistband of my underwear and pulls his face up to look at me. "Can I take these off of you, baby girl?"

My head is in the clouds. Somehow I manage to nod my head.

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart."

I do as I am told and then feel him slowly slide them off of me. I lift my legs into the air for him to pull off and I see him smile and then kiss the sides of my feet before he pulls them off and tosses them onto the floor. He lowers himself back between my thighs and I bite the corner of my lip, suddenly nervous.

"Oo, baby," Paul moans as he is looking at me. "You're perfect."

I giggle nervously. "Paul," I complain.

"Mm, what?" He kisses me, right between my legs, and my mouth drops. "What?" He asks again, though this time he has his head picked up.

"N-nothing," I bite my lip and lie my head back down.

I actually _feel_ Paul laughing against me as he kisses me again.

I gasp.

"Do you like that, baby?" He murmurs, kissing me again.

I nod my head, moaning deep in the back of my throat.

"Oh this pussy," He murmurs as he slips his hands beneath my butt and pulls me closer.

I blush. Paul is so _dirty._ I know he is experienced, but this is something else; just the way he talks makes me shiver with embarrassment. He is so confident, so sexy, so sensual.

I am not prepared at all for what he does next.

My mouth hits the ground as Paul starts licking me. I am seeing stars and the entire universe is tilting on it's axis and I swear I never knew that anything in the world could ever feel this good.

I don't even know what he is doing, but he certainly seems to. The sounds coming out of me now are unpracticed, natural, uncontrollable. I close my eyes at the ceiling and try to control my breathing, but that is useless because the only thing that I can focus on is the feeling of pure and complete pleasure that is spreading to every part of my body.

He sucks on me and I moan… loudly.

"God," I whisper out during a quick breath.

Paul does something particularly incredible where it sends a wave of ecstasy shooting up my spine and I tilt my head back and moan. "Paul," I whimper, gripping the sheets between my hands.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He pulls away.

"Don't, stop," I moan, my body craving him so intensely that I may shove his face towards me if he doesn't get back to it; thankfully, I don't have to.

Paul does the same thing that he was just doing, the thing that sends little tiny fireworks shooting up my spine, and I feel something change.

I don't know what it happening; I don't know why my body is tensing and why I don't want it to stop or why my heart stops for a second.

My mouth drops and I grip the sheets so tightly that I wonder if I am going to cut myself with my nails.

I am frozen.

It's like I hit a peak, like the second before you get that rush of adrenaline on a roller coaster, only this feels so much more incredible.

I can't speak.

I can't move.

I have no idea what is happening to me.

It hangs there for a while. I am tensed and waiting for something though I am not sure what that its, though my body sure seems to know. Paul- fuck! Paul is certainly doing this on purpose, he must be.

Then finally, _finally_ , it comes in a wave like a tsunami that floods through my entire body. I can't stop myself from shaking. I let out a loud moan, though this one is higher than the rest, high and needy and ridiculous though I don't care. I can't control my thighs from trembling and my back from arching and the sounds that I am making are a mix of complete pleasure and intense relief.

My body is in bliss.

 _I_ am in bliss.

I shake again. I can't help it. My breathing is fast and uneven and I can't open my eyes and my God the room is spinning… Everything is spinning.

The wave passes, and I am left pleasured and tired and feeling a type of contentment I have never felt before.

I feel Paul climb ontop of me. The spot that he was just kissing is throbbing with pleasure and heat. I can't open my eyes.

"Scarlett," He breathes into my neck. I can't respond. He gently kisses my neck and I swear my eyes roll into the back of my head. "Scarlett," He whispers again. "That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen." He kisses along my jawline as I try to breathe like a normal human being again. " _You_ are the sexiest thing I have ever seen."

I moan and he takes my face between his palms and kisses me softly. "I love you, Scarlett."

I can't help but laugh, and then once I start I can't stop. I open my eyes to see Paul raise his eyebrows at me, clearly surprised. "Yeah, I love you too, you freaking amazing human. Dear God!"

Paul bursts into laughter and I blush and bury myself into his neck. "Thank you," I say into his skin.

Paul shivers and then pulls me away from him. "Ugh, you're welcome," He speaks between gritted teeth. "Please just, don't be you for a second." He moans again and closes his eyes. "Fuck."

"Oh," My eyes widen. I can't help my gaze from dropping to his shorts where there is a bulge so large I feel embarrassed even looking at it. "I-I'm sorry."

Paul laughs. "What on the face of this planet do you have to be sorry about? You're fucking," He shakes his head and moans. "Perfect. Too perfect. It's ridiculous." He sits up and then smacks his thighs. "You're in trouble."

I giggle, quite shocked. "Me?"

"Yes," He grumbles. "You're too sexy. It's selfish."

"Selfish?" I laugh.

"Extremely selfish!" He jokingly scolds at me. "It's going to be an ongoing problem in our relationship- I can tell."

I giggle. "Oh can you?"

"Yes."

Paul leans down and kisses me deeply and I fall back into the mattress, my giggles dying down instantly as my brain immediately switches back into that other mode. I can't get enough of him. I wrap my arms around his neck and sigh contently.

I feel Paul laugh with his lips connected to mine and then gently pull my arms out from around his neck.

"Sweetheart," He kisses both of my hands. "I need to go… cool off. Is that okay? I don't mean to leave you after that."

My eyes pop and I blush. "Oh! No! That's fine!" I speak nervously.

Paul laughs and kisses me again, quicker this time.

It is impossible not to notice his giant boner as he hobbles into the bathroom.

I hear the shower turn on, and I pull the comforter all the way up to the bottom of my eyes and then giggle excitedly to myself.

I can't believe that just happened!

* * *

I bat my eyelashes awake and squint at the sun peaking out through the windows.

"Paul?" I mumble absentmindedly. I reach my arm over to his side of the bed, but my hands connect with cold sheets.

I frown.

I lift my head up and look around the empty room. My eyes land on the dresser and I see a mug and a small piece of paper. I lift the paper up and see the words, "Drink me!" written in sloppy, large handwriting with a smiley face at the end. I pick up the mug and inhale the scent of coffee. I smile to myself and sit up.

The events of last night flood my head all of a sudden, and my content smile folds into an embarrassed one as I relive Paul between my legs. I bite the corner of my lip and let out a laugh of disbelief. I hold the hot coffee to my chest and then shake my head, resting my forehead on the mug and closing my eyes.

My fingers trail down to my chest, where Paul had kissed me there, and I feel myself blush. My hand drops to my waistline and I smile blissfully as I remember exactly what he had done. My body quivers with the memories.

I open my eyes with a long sigh and take a sip; the coffee is still warm.

I step out of bed and am about to stretch when bright red numbers catch my attention: 10:48 reads on the screen. I gasp. I only have two more days here, I can't waste this one too!

I somehow manage not to spill my coffee as I rush out of the bedroom. I make it about two steps in the hallway before I realize that I am practically naked and quickly backpedal into the bedroom. I slip some shorts on, not bothering to put on any underwear and then make sure to put a sports bra on too. Only then, do I grab my coffee rush out of the room.

I step into the kitchen and everyone turns to look at me.

"Hello werewolves," I speak slyly, taking a sip of my coffee.

They laugh as I rest my back against the cabinets. "Where's Paul?" I ask when I don't see him.

"He ran across the street to pick up breakfast, he'll be back in a bit," Jacob tells me.

"What, Scarlett," Quil teases, "You can't be away from him for ten minutes? Please don't tell me you're turning into Nessie."

I giggle as Nessie's mouth drops in offense. "No that will never happen Quil don't worry. We made up last night when I realized how cool it was to actually be dating a werewolf so I'm just excited to see him." I sigh.

"Oh yeah," Jared laughs. "I think the whole world heard you two make up."

Kim elbows him in the ribs but he doesn't make any response.

I gasp and my mouth drops. Heat rises to my cheeks. _Oh my God_ , I think, _they heard me!_ I had been so preoccupied I had forgotten about the fact that this house is filled with six other people. The sounds of last night flood my head at warped speed; I hadn't exactly been being quiet, either.

"Scarlett, you're fine," Jacob rubs my arm. "No one heard anything." You know what, Jacob is officially the nicest, aside from Paul, obviously.

I giggle awkwardly and then take a chug of my coffee.

Nessie giggles from across the room and I narrow my eyes at her. I clear my throat and then nervously run my fingers through my hair.

I hear the front door open and then set my coffee down and squeal as I go running towards Paul. I just manage to see his eyes widen in surprise as I jump on him and wrap my legs around his torso. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face into his shirt.

"Well hi," Paul laughs. "I was hoping I would get back before you woke up."

"Paul," I pull my face away so I can make eye contact with him and try to make my expression serious. "We need to go to the beach."

Paul raises his eyebrows and then he laughs. "Alright well why don't you eat first," He laughs and then runs his fingers through my hair. "And brush your hair."

My mouth drops. "What? Does it look bad?"

"Not… bad," Paul's eyes widen. "Just kinda like you had sex last night."

I gasp and blush again.

"Did you know that everyone heard you," I whisper in a panic.

"Me?" Paul laughs. "I think they heard you, sweetheart."

"Shut up!" I smack his arm but he laughs.

"I'll tell you what," Paul begins as he strokes the side of my cheek, "Why don't you go get your swimsuit on and I'll get your breakfast ready and then we'll go to the beach?"

I bite the corner of my lip and nod my head. I suddenly feel a little bit embarrassed to be staring right at him. Paul saw me without my underwear on… Paul saw me naked! Not only that, but he touched me, too. He _kissed_ me. And licked me and sucked me and oh dear Lord. I blush and Paul leans down to set the food on the ground.

"On second thought," Paul hoists me up higher and then holds me to him by my thighs. I squeal when he squeezes them and then walks us into the bedroom.

Paul shuts the door behind us and then gently tosses me down onto the bed. I giggle as he climbs on top of me and starts kissing my neck. My giggles quickly turn to soft moans as he kisses down my neck.

He sighs and pulls away from me. "I can't kiss your collarbone in this shirt," He says as he runs his finger along the bone.

"That hasn't stopped you before." I bite the corner of my lip and blush as I remember him sucking on my breasts last night.

Paul raises his eyebrows and then continues to kiss my collarbone overtop of my shirt. "Mmm," He pulls away and then stares down at me. He stares unwavering at me as his hand drops to beneath my shirt. My breath catches in my throat as I wonder where he is going to touch. I feel my thighs heat up in anticipation.

Paul doesn't touch me, though.

Well, he does, but not where I am expecting. His fingers find the scar above my hip and begin tracing it over and over again.

"What're you doing?" I ask him softly.

Paul's lips pull up at the corners. "You know how you said your body remembers the pain of it?" He asks as he continues to run his finger along the scar.

I gulp, then I nod.

"I want to replace every bad feeling with a good one. When you touch your scars, I want you to remember _me_ touching them, not someone hurting you.

I blink at him.

I don't know what to say to that.

I sit up and take a long, deep breath. Paul's hand finds my back and he begins rubbing it. "You okay?" He asks.

I take a deep breath and then nod my head. "Let's just go to the beach okay?"

"Okay." Paul pulls my hair behind my head and then kisses my temple softly. "I love you Scarlett," He says sweetly.

I smile and turn to him. "I know. Now stop saying it every five seconds. It's freaking me out." I stand up and then walk over to my suitcase and grab a swimsuit out of it.

Paul laughs from the bed. "I'm not allowed to say it anymore?"

"Of course you're allowed to say it," I roll my eyes. "You just- you shouldn't say it all the time because then it just kind of defeats the purpose of it. Like, don't just say it when it doesn't matter."

Paul squints his eyes at me. "I'm not sure I quite follow that logic, Scarlettica."

I burst into laughter at the nickname and my flawed logic. "I don't know, okay! I've never told anyone that before and I've never had anyone say it to me either. I don't really know how it works!"

Paul chuckles. "I think you're overthinking it just a little bit, sweetheart."

"Let's just go," I grumble.

"Hang on a second." Paul reaches for my hand and then pulls me into his lap. I press my knees to either side of him and straddle his lap. I bite my lip as I sense how close his body is to mine and peer up at him from beneath my lashes. "How do you feel?" Paul asks, running his fingers through the side of my hair. "You're not sore or anything, are you?"

I blush and giggle at the same time. "How would I be sore, Paul?" It's not like anything actually happened _inside._ I blush just at the thought; I can't imagine doing _that_.

"I don't know," He smiles. "Just making sure."

I giggle again. "No I feel good, don't worry." I sigh. "Was that…," I bite the corner of my lip, suddenly embarrassed. "Normal?" I wince.

"What?" Paul laughs.

"Look I know that what happened," I try to use my hands to get my point across, though I don't think I'm making much sense, "Is normal but the way I like, the way I…, ugh!" I cover my face with my hands and I hear Paul laugh. He pulls my hands away and then kisses them.

"You can ask," He smiles reassuringly at me.

I laugh nervously and then place a piece of hair behind my ear. "Ugh, well," I break to laugh again. "Like the way I… shook?" Paul's eyes widen and I wince. "Oh my God," I moan to myself and drop my head. I have officially lost every ounce of self-respect.

"Scarlett," Paul presses his finger underneath my chin and pushes my face up. "Yeah, it's normal honey."

I bite the corner of my lip. "Really?"

Paul squints his eyes at me. "Have you ever had an orgasm before, Scarlett?"

I gasp at the word. My head actually hurts from the amount of blood that rushes to it. "Paul," I mumble.

"Never?" He asks as he places a piece of hair behind my ear. His voice is teetering on disbelief. I suddenly feel insecure.

"Is that not okay?" I ask.

"What?" Paul takes my face between his hands. "Of course it's okay. It's just kind of, surprising."

"I told you I didn't have any experience," I mumble.

"I know, baby, I know," He strokes the side of my face. "I just thought you had maybe... ugh, pleased yourself before?"

"Oh God." I cover his mouth with my hand and look him dead in his surprised eyes. "Seriously don't ever talk about that again " I laugh.

He pulls my hand away. "You've never masturbated before?" He laughs.

"Paul!" I exclaim. "Shut up! What is wrong with you?"

He laughs. "Why are you so embarrassed? You really never have before?"

"No I obviously haven't!" I exclaim, my cheeks growing red. "Now would you leave me alone!"

"Alright," He nods his head. "We'll talk about this later."

"We'll talk about this never," I smile fakely.

Paul kisses me. "Later. Did it not feel good?" He successfully changes the subject with an even more embarrassing subject.

My eyes widen. "No, Paul, it definitely felt good!" I blush.

"Than don't worry," Paul presses my hair to the sides of my face and kisses my nose. "I said I was going to take care of you and I meant it. You never have to worry when you're with me, okay?" I nod my head. "The only time you need to worry is if anything doesn't feel good, then you tell me and I'll stop. Okay?" I blush, bite the center of my lip, and then nod my head.

"Good." Paul kisses my forehead. "You ready to go to the beach yet or do you want to talk about your first orgasm in more detail first?"

I shove his chest and he grabs his heart in fake pain. "Oh!" He falls down on the mattress as if he just had a heart attack.

I roll my eyes. "Get up and put your swimsuit on."

About fifteen minutes and eight pancakes (two for me and six for Paul) later, we are lying on the beach with the sun beating down on us.

"This is heaven," I sigh.

"Oh yeah?" Paul sighs back. "I thought heaven was with me last night."

I blush. "Paul Lahote!" I gasp, looking around the beach and thankful that everyone else is either listening to music or walking on the beach. "Want to go in the water?" I ask as I sit up.

"Sure," Paul begins playing with the ends of my hair.

"Why do you think that no one else likes going in the ocean?" I ask suddenly. "I don't get it. It's like, the best place on earth."

"I don't know Scar," Paul sits up. "Maybe sharks, or the current, or possible drowning."

I giggle and shake my head at him. "In case you haven't noticed Lahote, I like to live my life on the edge."

"The edge of death, yes, yes I have noticed this by the midnight joy-walks."

"Yeah but ever since I met you no one will let me joy-walk anymore. The first time Nessie and Jake practically forced me into their car and then took me to a bonfire where some pompous asshole yelled at me and then walked me home, and then of course there was the infamous bonfire freakout in which I sprinted away from you and your best friend trailed me until I got in for him to take me home."

Paul throws his head back and laughs. "You know what the heck, right? I'm keeping you from being possibly kidnapped and sexually assaulted. I am so possessive!"

I burst into laughter and shake my head. "Hey Paul?"

"Yeah?" He asks as he is staring out at the water.

I bite my lip. "You remember the first time we hung out, when we watched the Titanic?"

Paul smiles widely and then turns his head towards me. "Of course I do. I can't ever forget that day. I contemplated staying all night so that I could watch you sleep."

I gasp. "That's so creepy!"

"Hence why I left."

I giggle and then shake my head. I let silence follow for a second. "You know how the next day, in the shop, you asked me about the bruises?"

Paul freezes. Something happens behind his eyes that makes my heart break; it's the same thing that happened when I told him about my step-dad, almost like it hurts him to think about me hurt.

"Well I'm sorry I lied to you," I quickly finish. I purse my lips and look back out at the water.

Paul sighs. "I already knew you lied, Scarlett."

I shoot my head towards him, surprised. "What?"

"Yeah," Paul nods his head. "I always knew every time you were lying to me, I just figured out that you weren't ready to answer any of my questions and so I let it go."

"Oh," I speak, my voice picking up at the end. "Really?"

Paul laughs. "Yes. You're a terrible liar, Scarlett."

"I am not!" I argue.

Paul gives me a condescending look. "Now you're going to argue with me about how good of a liar you are? You're terrible. Worst I've ever seen."

"Hm." I angrily cross my arms overtop of my chest and set my gaze on the water.

I hear Paul laugh next to me. "You are the most competitive person I have ever met."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I exclaim.

"Nothing." Paul pats my knee and then stands up. "Race ya to the water!"

He takes off and I scramble to my feet. "No fair! You got a head start!" I shout after him as I take off towards the ocean.

I reach him and Paul grabs me around the waist and spins me around. I squeal as my feet skim the water and then Paul tosses me in.

I emerge from the water with a huge smile and a breath of relief. I swim over to him and then stand up, ready to shove him, or rather, try to shove him in, but Paul cups my cheek in his hand and then kisses me.

I am powerless. Powerless to do anything but lean into him.

I smile and pull away, pulling him along with me. "Let's go farther," I tell him excitedly.

"Yes ma'am." He kisses the back of my hand and then pulls me up into his arms so that he is cradling me to his chest.

"Hey!" I complain, though the wide smile on my face is contradicting my complaints.

"Hey what," He smiles down at me. "Want me to let you go?"

I think about this for a second. "Not really," I answer honestly.

Paul chuckles and nods his head. "Hey Scar?"

"Yeah Lahote," I sigh.

"What is it about the water that you like so much? Are you secretly a mermaid or something?"

I pop up, my eyes immediately growing wide. "Are those real?" I gasp. "Oh my God. Mermaids are real! Eeeee!" I squeal and wiggle my legs in the air. "Can I become one of those? Please tell me there isn't some sort of gene for that too! Oh my God this is incredible!"

"Scarlett!" Paul silences me, though he laughs right after. "No, as far as I know there aren't such things are mermaids."

"Seriously?" My shoulders slump. "Ugh! Life is so boring for ordinary peasants like me." I drape my hand over my head dramatically.

"Oh my God you are ridiculous," Paul laughs as he holds me out in the water and then lets go of me to float.

I swim a few feet away, farther into the ocean as Paul follows behind.

"You never answered my question," Paul says once he reaches me.

I rack my brain but come up empty. "I'm sorry, what was your question?"

"I asked why you like the water so much."

"Oh," I shrug and then look around. "I don't know. I could go to the beach before because I couldn't wear a swimsuit, so, I guess it was kind of like everything that I thought I couldn't do, or I thought they took away from me just kind of went away. And I think I connected being away from them with being at the ocean. I don't know," I look towards the water nervously. I am not used to talking so much without thinking about what I am going to say. "It's really weird but, something about being in the ocean, I feel safe. Like I'm in a different world. " After a moment of silence I shake my head. "That's stupid, I know."

"Don't call yourself stupid," Paul speaks suddenly.

I lift my gaze to meet his. He is shaking his head.

"That's not stupid. Not at all. And neither are you… ever. Got it?"

My lips pull up at the corners. "Lahote, are you talking to me like you talk to your football players?"

Paul laughs. "No. Scarlett I would never talk to you like I talk to some of those idiots."

"Are you a mean football coach?" I smile as I wrap my arm around his neck and pull myself close to him.

"The worst," He smiles proudly.

I giggle. "Good. You're only allowed to be sweet for me, got it?" I ask, copying the way that he just talked to me.

Paul laughs. "Yes ma'am!"

I chuckle and lean into him. "Just so you know, I think you created a monster." I blush before I even say it. "I can't stop thinking about last night."

Paul's eyes sparkle when he hears this. "Oh yeah?" He asks, that same sexy, low voice that he used with me when he was kissing between my thighs last night. I blush again. "What are you thinking about."

I giggle, extremely embarrassed, and then I shake my head and hide my face in his neck.

"Oh, Scarlett," He laughs and kisses my hair. "You can tell me, honey."

"No I really can't," I bite my lip and pull away from him.

Paul laughs again when he sees me. "I can't believe how red your cheeks can get," He shakes his head and then kisses my cheek.

I sigh. I close my eyes. I practice forming the words before I say them. When I open them again, I am ready. "I love you," I say clearly, and then I take a deep breath and smile, not at him, but at myself this time.

Paul cups my face between his hands and smiles at me. "I love you too, Scar."

He kisses me softly at first, but then I deepen it. I don't care who sees. I don't care about anyone or anything except or Paul.

The sun has nothing on the heat of his kiss.

Nothing on the heat that he caused last night between my legs.

This…

This is happiness.

* * *

Whew okay I am blushing just posting this chapter... Well, I think we call all agree we have officially switched over to M!

I am dying for your thoughts! Review for an update; I am on a roll!


	18. Beautiful, Blonde Hottie

Hello everyone! As promised, here is some Paul POV for your reading enjoyment :)

I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone for reading,following, favoriting and reviewing! It makes my day when I read your reviews, it really does! I try to respond to all of you, but to all the guest reviews, please know that I read them all and that I LOVE your thoughts and take everything you say to heart! I hope you love this new chapter, xoxo

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I walk into our bedroom to change into a new shirt and find Scarlett lying on the bed. She has a pillow hugged tightly to her chest and her knees are tucked into her stomach.

"Scar?" I ask, uneasily. These last few days have been nothing short of extraordinary; I never thought that we would be at this place together. A part of me is immediately filled with dread that somehow it will have to end.

She doesn't respond.

I go over to her side of the bed, arguments already swarming in my mind. _Listen Scarlett_ , I will say, _Everything's okay. If it's too fast for you we can slow it down. I love you and I'm never going to leave you. No one is going to leave you._

Once I see her face, I immediately grow worried. I stroke the side of her face and stare at her eyes that are locked on a spot of the wall across the room and the way that she is shaking her foot over and over and over again.

"What's wrong, honey?" I ask as softly as I can.

Scarlett breaks her stare to raise her eyes at me. She suddenly looks like she is about to cry. "Nessie is making me get a massage."

My eyes widen.

A massage?

Well… that was not what I was expecting.

"I thought you would be excited about the spa, Scar." I run my fingers through her soft, blonde, almost white, hair and try to figure out what is so wrong about a massage.

"One, I would rather go jet-skiing with you guys than go to a stupid spa. And two, I don't want to get a full-body massage." She sniffles and I squint at her.

"Did you tell Nessie this?" I ask her.

"Yes," Scarlett rubs her eyes angrily. "And she said that she thought I would be uncomfortable with it so she got me a girl."

Oh. "What's the problem, again?" I ask gently, trying not to make her even more upset.

Scarlett lets out a soft sob and I freeze. What did I say?

"I don't want someone touching me," She cries. And then I watch as her tiny, little, perfect body shakes while she gently cries.

My shoulders slump. God, I can't imagine. I seriously can't, as hard as I possibly try, anyone ever being able to hurt her. She is so little, so beautiful, so fragile. How could anyone hurt someone like that? It makes me sick to my stomach.

I pull her into my lap and she buries her face into my neck, that one particular part that she always seems to press her face into. I rub her back in small circles and try to take particular care in being extra gentle. Ever since she told her what happened to her I worry about accidentally touching her too roughly and somehow hurting her- I never want anyone to hurt her again.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to, Scar."

"Yes I do," She moans into my neck. "It's Nessie's birthday tomororw. She loves this stupid shit. I don't want to be the one to ruin the festivities." She pulls away and sniffles and then takes a deep breath.

"You're not ruining anything, Scar. It's understandable that you're not comfortable with someone touching you. You only like to be touched by specific people. Hey, why don't I just go and give you a massage?"

Scarlett laughs gently. "Paul," She begins.

"No, seriously! I'll just go there and work my charm and convince them to let me give you a massage and then it'll be me and two masseuses and Kim and Nessie and you."

She laughs a little bit harder now. I smile. If I could make her laugh every time she is upset I would fulfill my purpose in life.

"It's so stupid," She picks at the bottom of her shirt. I tense; I hate when she calls herself or her feelings stupid, and she does a lot.

Scarlett senses my distaste and gives me a condescending expression. "Paul, it _is_ stupid. A massage by a woman shouldn't freak me out so much! It's just… ugh!" She shakes her head and grumbles to herself. "It's like, I know I'm not being hurt anymore, but the thought of someone seeing _everything_ makes me want to vomit."

I press her tighter to me. "So it's not even about the touching?"

"I don't know what it's about," She sighs. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," I sigh. "Not at-,"

"Not at all, yeah yeah," She rolls her eyes.

I chuckle. "Would you like my opinion?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes so dramatically I wonder if she will ever be able to see straight again. "Would it make a difference if I said no?"

I laugh. "Yes of course!"

"Fine," She sighs, though I notice the hints of a smile touching the corners of her lips.

I run my fingers through the side of her soft, soft hair. "You know when I told you that _you_ are the only one holding yourself back?" She nods her head. "I think you shouldn't stop yourself from discovering all the ways that your body can feel good. Like last night," I run my hand along her thigh and she stares at the movement. She blushes. "And today can be another one."

Her eyes widen. "You can have an orgasm from a massage?"

My words catch in my throat. "I meant just a general sense of pleasure, Scarlett," I can't help but laugh.

"Oh," Her eyes pop and her face turns into a tomato again. God, she is just so God damn cute.

I kiss her forehead, trying to contain my laughter. That was probably one of the best Scarlett moments to date. I just want to keep a notebook of them, scroll through one day, and just be like "Hey, Scarlett, remember that one time you asked me if getting a massage could give you an orgasm?" I chuckle at the mere thought.

"What do you think about that?" I ask her.

Scarlett lets out a dramatic sigh. "I guess that sounds okay."

I chuckle. "You think so?"

Scarlett moans. "Don't you have any problems? Like any deep-seated issues that you need to deal with that I can help you with? Seriously!"

I let out a deep laugh and shake my head. "Nope," I lie.

"You know what, it's not fair."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Not fair?"

"Not fair at all!" She exclaims. "I tell you about all my issues and yet you don't tell _me_ a thing."

I swallow. "Well what do you want to know, Scarlett?"

"Anything!" She pushes. "I'm not," She struggles with her words for a second. "Too fragile for you to tell me when something's wrong with _you_."

"Is everything okay, Scar?" I ask.

"It's fine. It's," She smiles. "It's perfect. It's never been this good for me. I just don't always want it to be about _me_. You're important too, you know."

"Scarlett, you're going to make me blush."

She rolls her eyes and stands up. "You can't even be serious." She pulls her hand out of mine and walks into the bathroom.

"What- Scarlett come on!" I call after her.

"I'm fine," She yells back. "I need to get ready for this damn massage."

"The orgasm massage?" I cringe. Okay, I seriously couldn't help myself there.

"Paul!" She slams the bathroom door and I laugh to myself.

Woops.

* * *

"You've been uncharacteristically respectful this evening, Pauley," Quil bats his eyelashes at me and I look at him with a mix of death and the stomach flu, which is what Quil calling me Pauley just might give me.

We decided to go on a run before we rented our jet ski's, and all I keep thinking about is Scarlett.

When I am with her I am so ridiculously happy; all I can think about it her smile and her lips and the way that she blushes at _everything_. I am in love. But then when I am away from her, my thoughts drift to a more dangerous place; I can't stop imagining someone hurting her. The images, the videos, the scenes that flow through my mind make me want to kill something. They make me want to punch a wall until I break both my hands and scream until my voice stops working. Him burning her, holding her down as she screams and cries and hitting her out of left field and her smile dropping and holy fuck I want to kill him. I have never wanted to kill someone so badly in my entire life.

"Jake, have you thought any more about opening that shop yet?" Embry asks.

"I think I'm going to do it," Jake says proudly.

"That's great man!" Seth pats him on the back and everyone else congratulates him. Shit. With everything going on with Scarlett I had completely forgotten about Jake expanding Jake's Autoshop to another location.

"Ugh, that's great Jake! I'm happy for you."

"Thanks man," He responds, though I can tell that he notices my disconnect. "What's up with you? How's Scarlett doing?"

I wince. With the mention of Jake's Autoshop, I had realized how self-obsessed I have been lately, and I suddenly have no desire to talk about my issues anymore.

"Great. How's everything going with you?" I force a smile.

"Oh come on," Jake rolls his eyes. "What's up? How is she doing?"

"I'm grateful for this trip for the sole reason that I got to see that Scarlett actually _likes_ him. I didn't believe it," Jared speaks seriously.

"Shut the fuck up," I laugh.

"I think we can all thank Embry for that great performance in the woods that almost scared the poor girl to death!" Jacob jokingly pats his arm.

"She wondered into the woods at three am! What was I supposed to do? The girl has a death wish," Embry says.

"Chill," I say, my muscles tensing on instinct.

"Relax, Paul. Fuck I have no idea how I have kept you two from killing each other recently," Jacob says.

"Immature," Seth crosses his arms and smiles happily.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever kid. You let me know when Embry's crushing on your little girlfriend how you react."

"Paul," Quil narrows his eyes at me. "Chill out."

I cross my arms and sigh. I just barely peak over at Embry and bite down the bile in my throat. "Sorry," I mumble, not quite sure if I mean it.

I sigh. "It's really not you guys. There's just some… stuff that's on my mind."

"What kind of stuff?" Seth's eyes widen.

"You have a fucked up little mind, you know that?" I shake my head at him. Seth blushes, and it reminds me of Scarlett, and I immediately miss her. I hope everything goes okay with the massage. I hope she doesn't panic. I hope it actually feels good. I hope I was right with my advice.

"Everything okay?" Jacob asks.

"It's… no. No." They wait for me to elaborate but I don't make any inclination of continuing.

"What's going on?" Jake pushes.

"Nothing," I grumble. "She told me. She wouldn't want all of you knowing."

"If it puts her in danger we need to know about it. You know the deal with imprints, Paul," Jacob says, and I can immediately sense his alpha coming out through his tone.

"Fuck the imprint," I scoff. "If I don't think it's in her best interest for me to tell you than I'm not saying shit."

"Here we go again," Quil sighs.

"This is about to be fun!" Jared rests his elbow on Quil's shoulder and they laugh.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not going to freak out," I speak calmer than I think anyone was expecting. Their surprised expressions only validate my assumption. "I just don't think she would want you to know."

"Wow," Seth speaks after a second. Everyone nods in agreement. I don't think any of them have witnessed a Paul freak-out without a bang at the end.

"So," Jared begins, pointing his finger at me and getting that sarcastic look about him that he nearly always has. "Is this the calm, cool and collected Paul that won over the sweet blonde or is this a third personality?"

I roll my eyes and shove him, sending him stumbling back a little.

"I always kinda wondered about that. Nice to know you are situationally an asshole," Quil quips.

"You guys are idiots," I moan.

"I'd beat you up if you were any different with her though," Quil continues. I scoff; Quil couldn't beat me up. "Scarlett's a sweetheart."

I growl. "Dude," Quil holds up his hands and his eyes widen. "I have my own imprint. Seriously you need to relax or you're about to explode."

"I know, I know, I know," I moan and press my fists to my eyes. I hit my eyes a few times and then moan again. "I can't stop thinking about it."

"About what?" Jacob asks.

I moan. "I can't tell you."

"Paul." Jacob puts his hand on my shoulder. "If we need to protect her, we need to know what from so that we can figure out how to do that. We wouldn't ever say anything to anyone, you know that."

I narrow my eyes and look towards Embry. He seems offended.

"Why the hell would you think I would say something?" He gasps.

I roll my eyes. Scarlett could bat her eyelashes at him and he would tell her this entire conversation with dialogue, not that I would really be much different.

"Paul," Jacob pulls my attention back. "Just tell us as much as we need to know. We're not just your pack, we're your friends."

I finally let myself give in. "Her step-dad was hurting her, man. He was, like, beating her. And burning her. She has scars all over her body. You know those bruises I saw? Those were from him. They were all from him."

All the joking from the conversation is sucked out of the air. Jared's elbow even drops from Quil's shoulder. Embry, Seth and Quil can't even make eye contact with me. "Shit," I rub my face. "I shouldn't have said anything. She didn't want anyone to know. Fuck! It was hard enough for her to tell me."

"It's okay, Paul," Jacob says, his tone understanding. "We needed to know. Do you have a name?"

My jaw tenses. "No," I speak slowly. "I want to kill him."

"I understand," He says.

"No you don't," I yell back. "The images. I- I- I can't stop thinking about it." I press my hands to my eyes and moan. I need to kill him. I need to feel the life leave his body, but not after I inflict every ounce of pain on him that he inflicted on Scarlett. Fuck. How? _How?_ How could anyone do that to her? A monster. A fucking monster with no heart or head or any type of soul. I'm going to kill him.

"Don't do that, man" Jared says, his tone surprisingly serious. "It will make you crazy."

"I think I am going crazy," I say.

"No you're not." Embry pats my shoulder and I look up, completely surprised and taken aback. "We're here for you, bro. You're an idiot but Scarlett needs you, and we'll protect her, you know that. No one will ever hurt her again."

"Thanks, Emb." We pound it out and then hug, and the rest of the pack smacks me as well.

"Welp," Jared sighs. "This is getting slightly gay. Anyone ready to phase yet or are we going to talk about more depressing subjects first?"

I smack him and then sprint off ahead. I jump into the air and flip around when Jared hits my side, phasing at the same time.

Finally, I feel the wind blow through my fur. I feel the animal in me come alive and my brain take a second's rest. Of course, like I told her, I _always_ think about her, but right now I'm not. I'm not thinking about anything, anything except for how good it feels to be running in my second skin.

We run for about an hour, and after talking with Sam we get an all clear from him for things at home. Thank God; I seriously don't have time to deal with any crazy vampires at a time like this.

After our run we do, in fact, rent some jet-ski's, which is therapeutic in an entirely different way. It's _fun_ , ridiculously fun, and I am secretly really happy that Scarlett didn't come, because God knows that girl would have been swerving in front of boats and nearly getting killed and giving me a heart attack; she has a wild streak that is indisputable.

I do know, though, that I will have to take her sometime, because she would have loved it. Perhaps I could take her alone and then spin a story about them only having one jet-ski available to rent so that we could be on the same on; perhaps then, at least, I could make sure that she doesn't die.

Speaking of my beautiful, blonde hottie. I haven't heard from her since she left for the spa. This could be really good… or really bad, all depending on how she felt about the massage. Currently crossing my fingers.

"Wait, bro, let's stop," Jared tells Jacob. I look out the window to see a dive bar on the water.

We decide that we'll go for an hour or so and then head back to the room; we've got some time to kill anyways. Once we park and walk inside, I realize that the place is actually cooler than I expected. It is most definitely a bar, but the entire place is open up in the back, a small boardwalk leading across the sand towards the ocean. Inside, there are pool tables and dart boards and alcohol, all illuminated blue and keeping with the aesthetic of the beach. It's pretty damn sweet.

We take a seat at the bar and Jacob orders a few pitchers of beer. As soon as it comes on I grab a glass to pour myself some, but then stop. The last time I drank, I felt Scarlett up and got carried away. At this point, when we were just physical for the first time, how could I risk it? I set the glass back down and ask the bartender for some water.

"You're not drinking?" Seth asks, shock evident in his voice.

I sigh and pour some beer into the glass and then push it over to him. "Have fun, kid."

Seth's eyes widen. "Just don't let Jacob see you," I laugh.

The bartender puts a shot glass in front of me and continues to pour clear liquid into it. "Ugh, I said water not vodka," I look at him crookedly.

"Not from me," The bartender replies. He motions behind him and my eyes meet a blonde who is smiling as she takes a sip of whatever fruity drink she has. She's cute… but she's not Scarlett.

I wave at her but then push the shot glass back to the bartender.

I don't look back to see what her reaction is.

I don't care.

"Hi handsome." I hear that sexy, raspy voice in my ear and smile, my entire mood shifting in an instant. I reach behind me and pull her into my lap. Scarlett giggles and falls into me.

Oh and when I see her, when I finally, finally see her, God. Fuck she is perfect. Her cheeks are rosy, her skin is shining, her eyes are large and sparkling, her lips are pink and her hair is blow dried in that sexy way that makes me want to start taking her clothes off. Oh, and she smells like heaven, too.

"How was it?" I ask her, although from the way she is smiling I think I must know the answer.

"Ohh." Scarlett dramatically strews her hand overtop of her forehead and I laugh. "It was incredible," She moans.

I swallow. Ever since last night, I can't handle her moaning without picturing her having an orgasm.

"I told her she would like it," Nessie calls over from her spot with Jake. She has her arms wrapped around Jacob's neck from behind him and looks just as relaxed.

"See, I told you!" I tell her, partially happy that she enjoyed herself but also happy that I didn't give her terrible advice. What are you guys doing here?" I ask.

"You want me to leave?" Scarlett teases.

"Not at all," I smile.

"Jared texted Kim," She sighs. Scarlett sits up and then moves herself so that she is sitting up on my lap with her legs hanging off the side. She peers towards the bar and then raises an eyebrow at me.

"Are you taking shots tonight, Lahote?"

"Hm?" I look towards that shot glass that is still sitting between Seth and I and am suddenly reminded. "Oh. No. Not mine."

She calls my bluff. "Oh yeah? Than whose is it?"

"Don't worry about it." I cup her face, that is exceptionally soft by the way, in my hands and kiss her softly.

Scarlett gives in and kisses me back. Ugh, I want her. I want her so badly. After seeing her moaning my name and arching her back and watching her knuckles turn white from gripping the sheets so tightly, it is all I can think about.

"Paul," She breathes into my mouth. I moan.

"So Seth," She lifts herself up and immediately has a conversational quality to her voice while I am left dazed and turned on. "Who's the shot from?"

"The chick across the bar," Seth answers happily.

"Seth," I moan.

"Hmm," Scarlett notices her and then I watch in horror as they make eye contact. She picks up the shot glass, tips it in the girl's direction, and then dumps the contents onto the floor.

My mouth drops.

Holy shit.

That was badass.

"Hey Seth, wanna go pick out a song with me?"

"Yeah!" Seth pops up and practically trails behind her like a puppy. I shake my head and laugh. I look over at the girl across the bar and wave apologetically. She rolls her eyes at me and then turns to her friend. I laugh to myself; way to go Scarlett.

I look over to see Scarlett and Seth shoving each other around to get their pick at the jukebox. Scarlett tries to lay herself overtop of the machine and press her face into the screen so that can hide it from Seth, but he manages to maneuver his face between her arm and head and see inside, causing Scarlett to giggle and try to re-position her arm in front of him.

I shake my head at her.

I turn back towards the bar and start talking about football with Emb, when I suddenly hear music come on, but not just any music.

Footloose rings through the speakers and we all turn in unison to see Scarlett and Seth swing dancing, or rather, attempting to swing dance, in the corner.

I burst into laughter and rub my forehead.

After a second they both seem to agree to pick something else and then hip-hop comes on and they continue to do body rolls, attaching their arms and then trying to make it one cohesive wave. It takes them a while but eventually they get it.

This continues for a while, though after the first couple of songs everyone kind of just goes back to what they were doing before and starts new conversations. I can't look away. Well, I can look away from Seth, obviously, but it's Scarlett that has me captivated.

Ever since she told me the truth, it's like this giant weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. She isn't so careful anymore, even with my friends. She is just _her_ _ **,**_ and I don't think I've ever seen her be so herself ever before. I am so in love it is overwhelming.

I suddenly want to kiss her, but that's nothing new.

Eventually they decide on some rocker music I've never heard before and come dancing back over to us. "Alright," Scarlett sighs and crosses her arms. "Who's up for losing a game of pool?"

"You know what, you're a little shit talker," Jared points his finger at her.

Scarlett giggles. "So does that mean you're in?"

"Hell yes!" Jared smacks Kim's thigh. "Woman, I need a pep talk!"

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "You wanna play Kim?"

"No," Kim scoffs. "Jared has tried to teach me for years and I swear I have gotten worse."

"Well that's fine," Scarlett sighs. "Than you can play with Paul, Jared. I've got Embry."

My jaw tenses. Embry? Why?

Embry looks over, his expression just as surprised.

"Awe blondie," Quil ruffles her hair, which Scarlett really doesn't seem to like. I sit up in my seat, ready to attack, though she just smacks his hand away and rolls her eyes. Jacob gives me a warning gaze and I slump my shoulders. _Every guy that touches her doesn't need to die, Paul,_ I remind myself. "What about me?" He finishes.

"I've seen your pool skills," Scarlett giggles. "You can be a fill in in case someone gets hurt."

Now that one, I actually laugh at.

"And how exactly does one get hurt playing pool?" Quil asks, trying to seem annoyed but I can tell he is trying not to laugh.

"Well you'll see once Scarlett and I kick their asses." Embry holds his hand out for a high five and Scarlett jumps excitedly to smack his hand.

"Yes!" She squeals, and then practically skips over to the pool table.

"Alright," I say, standing up and walking over to her, "Game on, little girl."

Ten minutes later:

"Embry," Scarlett sighs and pops her hip as she holds the pool stick in one hand. God damn it she is so hot. "You don't think this is just cruel at this point, do you?"

Embry pretends to think about it. "Not at all."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

Scarlett shoots me a flirty smile and I shake my head at her. Oh if we were alone.

It is my turn.

I sink two in but miss on a tricky third shot.

It is now Scarlett's turn, and she only has the eight ball left.

"Any last words boys?" She sighs.

"You suck," Jared says, crossing his arms overtop of his chest. "We hate you. You're annoying."

Scarlett giggles and then bites the corner of her lip. She leans over the table. Did it get hotter in here? She lines up her shot. I want to fuck her. And then she sinks the shot.

She gets a round of applause from everyone watching and she blushes and then turns to hug Embry for their win. I watch the encounter and actually have to hold myself back from attacking him. What makes him think he can touch her?

"Easy, killer, "Jacob laughs from his spot next to me hugging Nessie. I growl to myself but swallow the fire down.

It is what Scarlett does when she finally comes to me though, that makes me forget about that hug. She wraps her skinny, little arms around my neck and then smiles that smile that she saves just for me; it's the one where her eyes sparkle and she has to bite her lip to keep from smiling too big.

I take the pool stick out of her hand and rest it on the table next to us. I enclose my arms around her lower back and pull her closer.

"Good thing you're not a sore loser," She teases.

I kiss her cheekbone, right in front of her ear, and then sweep the hair out of her face to whisper to her. "You just wait."

Scarlett blushes and then I swear to God I actually feel her shake in my arms.

Okay.

I need to get this girl home.

After a few hours we all head home. Scarlett asks me to ride home in the car with Nessie, Kim and her and when she uses that sweet voice and looks up at me with those huge, blue eyes I just can't say no.

She rested her head on my shoulder the whole ride, and while Kim and Nessie chatted the whole way, Scarlett didn't say much. Our hands were entwined in her lap and she spent the time moving her fingers against mine.

As soon as we got back to the condo Scarlett pulled me to the side and did that thing where she peered up at me from beneath her eyelashes and I nearly fainted. "I want to be alone," She whispers. My face drops. "With you." I smile.

"Come on," I rub her hand and pull her towards our bedroom.

I close the door behind us and Scarlett nearly knocks me over with a hug.

"Woah," I laugh and wrap my arms around her. "You okay, beautiful?"

She nods her head with her face pressed into my chest. "I missed you," She whines, her voice seeping with honesty. I hold her tightly to me and kiss her forehead gently.

"Scarlett," I whisper into her hair.

"Mmm," She sighs into my shirt. "You're so warm. I think that's my favorite werewolf perk."

I laugh gently, not wanting to disturb her with too much movement. "I don't think I've ever heard that one before, Scar."

"Mmm," She mumbles again. I have to force myself not to grow hard.

"How did the massage go?" I ask, trying to change the subject and get my mind off her moaning.

"Amazing!" She moans even louder. That plan backfired, Paul. Scarlett rests her chin on my chest and then smiles up at me. "At first it was kind of weird but then after I relaxed it felt _so_ _good._ I didn't know something could feel that good… well, except for," Her voice trails off and the blush on her cheeks in indicative of what she is referring to.

I smile and press her hair behind her ears. "You're so beautiful," I whisper, shaking my head.

"Paul," She bites the corner of her lip.

"You are." I shake my head again. "So, so beautiful. I love you so much."

Her blue eyes soften. "I love you too."

Scarlett's hand slides up my shirt and then I feel it just barely tighten on the fabric on my chest. She closes her eyes and leans her face up towards mine. I take a mental picture. I take her perfect face in my hand and kiss her gently.

I don't deserve her. I really don't.

Scarlett pulls away and then smiles bashfully at me. I know what she is thinking. In fact, I knew what she would be thinking this morning, which is why I didn't try anything; I don't want Scarlett to think that just because we were physical one night, that that suddenly means I expect it every night.

I kiss her forehead lightly and then pull away to stroke her cheek.

"How about a bath?" I suggest.

Scarlett's eyes widen and her cheeks immediately turn into tomatoes. "Really?" She asks, her voice squeaky.

I laugh. "Only if you're comfortable with it, sweetheart."

I watch the wheels in her perfect, complex, complicated brain work overtime as she bites on the inside of her cheek. "I don't know if I'm comfortable with that," She bites her lip.

"That's okay!" I reassure her, rubbing both of her cheeks. "Don't worry."

"But I kind of want to," She sighs.

"We could keep our swimsuits on," I suggest.

Scarlett's eyes sparkle. "Really?"

"Of course," I laugh. "But only if you promise to wear that black bikini I got you," I wink at her.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "Fine. But no funny business." I nod my head. "I mean it Lahote!" She points her finger at me. "Bathing suits stay on, got it?"

I give her a fake salute. "Yes, ma'am."

She giggles, grabs her black swimsuit that is hanging on the drying rack, and rushes out of the room to change into it.

When she comes back into the bathroom I already have the water running and am in the process of pouring in something in French that after some process of elimination I chose over the other weird products because this one made bubbles.

"I got a mud bath, a body scrub and a rosewater treatment today," She giggles, sitting down on the edge of the tub and kicking her legs in the air. "I am extremely excited for just a regular bath.

I laugh for the sole reason of it taking my mind off of her perfect fucking body that is practically begging me to peel that tiny swimsuit off of her.

As the tub fills, I stand in front of Scarlett and push her cheek to my stomach. I run my fingers through her hair over and over and over again.

"What made your hair so soft?" I ask her gently. That is a trick question, though, because her hair is always soft.

"They soaked it in some oil treatment," She sighs. "Do you like it?"

"Mhm," I smile and run my hand from the top of her hand down to her upper back and then back again. "You get in first, baby girl."

"Hm?" She asks, her head somewhere else.

I hold back a laugh. "The bath?"

"Oh!" Scarlett pulls her head away from me and then blushes. "Okay." She stands up, and I can tell how embarrassed she is just from the way that she twiddles her fingers. It reminds me of how embarrassed she had been when I had finally gotten to see her… to _taste_ her. And _God_ she tasted so good.

Scarlett steps into the bath and then smiles nervously as she lowers herself into the water.

Holy shit.

I rest my head against the wall and just stare at her.

"What?" She asks, biting the middle of her lip in embarrassment.

I smile and shake my head.

"What?" She complains, louder now.

"Nothing," I laugh. "You're just… perfect."

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "Would you get in here? You're embarrassing me."

I chuckle and walk over to her. "Sit up, baby girl," I tell her. Scarlett does as she is told and then I slide in behind her. I slide my legs against hers and then pull her to my chest. I feel Scarlett shake again, but I don't say anything. She rests her head against my chest and sighs contently.

I wrap my arms around her and kiss the side of her head twice. I take a deep breath of her hair and close my eyes. "I can't get enough of her.

"Paul," She says, her voice quiet.

"Yeah baby?"

It takes her a moment to respond. "Let's never leave."

"I know, baby girl. I wish we never had to go."

"Do you think once we leave, things will change?"

"What?" I ask, instinctively pulling her closer. "What are you talking about?"

"Everything is so perfect here," She sighs. "I feel like it can't last that long. Like the universe is going to be like, 'Wait, Scarlett's happy! Can't have that.'," Her voice trails off and I am happy that she can't see me so that she can't see the way that my face falls.

This girl.

This perfect, beautiful, kind and fragile girl was hurt. She was hurt every day. How could someone do that? How could anyone, even a monster, ever look in those hopeful, bright blue eyes and hurt her?

"Fuck the universe," I say finally. "You're mine, and I love you. That's never going to change."

Scarlett just barely chuckles, but then she doesn't say anything more. I use the silence to try to force down the images of some man with bigger muscles than her and much more power than her punching her in the gut. I close my eyes and shake my head. I want to throw up and cry at the same time when I think about that.

"Scarlett," I whisper.

I want to tell her how proud I am of her for telling me all of this, for trying so hard with my friends and for managing to make friends of her own. I want to tell her that she is perfect and that she didn't deserve any of that and that I want to talk more about her life before me.

"Scarlett?"

I tilt my head in front of her face only to see her eyes closed and her chest moving up and down slowly.

I kiss her forehead and then sit down deeper into the water. I pull her head back to my chest and stroke her thighs, though this is much more for me than for her. Fuck do I love those thighs.

I have so many things I want to say. So many things that I need to say but don't know how to. So many things I want to talk about and things I want her to tell me. But for now, she will sleep, and I will hold her…

There's always tomorrow.

Yes.

There's always tomorrow.

"Forever," I whisper to her perfect, sleeping body.

* * *

I hope you all liked this chapter! Follow/favorite if you love Paul & Scarlett, and review for an update! Thanks for reading!


	19. Perfect

Hopefully some Paul and Scarlett brighten your Tuesday! Enjoy:)

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I am late.

Mollie can't possibly understand why I am so upset about missing curfew; she probably thinks it has something to do with Drew making out with Rebecca all night after he had been flirting with me all week. Little does she know that I could care less.

A part of me doesn't even want to go home.

I could ask her to stay over her house and get to sleep in tomorrow morning and forget all about what awaits me at home…

But I know that is only delaying the inevitable.

Mollie pulls into my driveway and my bones tense.

 _Please_ , I think, _Just please go easy on me today._ I already have a fresh bruise on my abdomen that makes it hurt to inhale; I really hope he forgot about that, if he hasn't than he will surely go for it.

She drives down the driveway towards the front door and my heart-rate picks up. It is incredible that even after all this time, the thought of getting hurt still panics me. No matter what he does to me, it doesn't ever hurt _less_. It hurts just like the first time every damn time.

She pulls the car into a park and I wonder if I hold my breath long enough if I will pass out. Could I hold it long enough to just die? I contemplate actually doing that.

With a shaking hand, I reach for the door handle and step outside. I stand with the door in my hand and my feet on the pavement and my heart begging God or whatever higher force there may be that he somehow slept through my curfew. I know he didn't, though, he would never lose an opportunity like this. Unlike other times, this time I actually did do something wrong; I can only imagine what awaits me inside.

"Bye?" Mollie says, obviously confused.

"Bye," I say, but I don't sound like myself. I sound numb. I am numb. Everything is numb. I watch as she pulls the car out of the driveway and her taillights fade into the dark.

I gulp.

I wish I could just shut it off. Just stop feeling. I don't even care that he hurts me, I just wish that it wasn't so much pain.

My heart drops to my stomach and it feels like someone punched me in the gut, even before he got the chance to, as I take a wobbily step towards the front door.

There aren't any lights on.

But I know better than to lower my guard.

I step inside tensed.

Ready for the hit.

Feeling nauseous.

Not wanting to feel pain anymore.

My mind going insane thinking about what he is going to do to me.

I tense my muscles. The worst is not readying myself for the hit.

I quietly shut the door behind me but the subtle click makes me cringe. The light flicks on.

I jump back. I don't even see him, my body _senses_ him. He is sitting at the kitchen table. A cigarette is in his hand.

Oh no. _Oh no._ I lose the ability to use my voice and my throat drops into my stomach and my stomach drops into my gut and I just about start crying. I can't take it tonight; I don't want it. Knowing the pain I am about to feel, I want to scream and cry and claw and beg. I don't want it. I don't want it. I don't want it. I don't want it.

"Well it's nice of you to show up," He says, his voice smooth like steel.

He stirs the ice in his drink around and around and around.

The sound makes me nauseous.

"You know what, I have a question for you."

I gulp. I look towards the ground. I don't say anything.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Do you really think you're that much smarter than me? That I wouldn't find out you were at some party tonight acting like a whore?"

My eyes pop open. I look up at him and gasp. He has cussed at me, screamed at me, yelled at me, called me names, but he has never in my life said anything like _that._ "What?" I breathe, and then as soon as it is out I cringe. I shouldn't have said anything.

He stands up abruptly, slamming the chair into the wall and then throwing his drink at me. It lands right next to my head and the whisky splatters on me as it shatters to the floor. I wince and jump up.

No more.

Please no more.

Of course there is more.

He rushes towards me and grabs my chin in his too tight too tight too tight grasp. Get off. Get off. Get off. Get off.

"After everything that we have done for you! Now I have to walk around this town with everyone knowing that my daughter is a slut!" He pushes me into the wall and I gasp as a pain radiates from the base of my skull down my spine.

"What are you talking about?" I gasp, clawing at his hand. "I didn't do anything!"

He doesn't like this.

He knees me in the stomach.

Hard.

The wind is knocked out of me and I lean over to catch my breath. He doesn't like that either.

He slaps me across the face, harder than usual. He isn't usually so rough with my face; people can see my face.

He grabs my arm and spins me and then throws me towards the table. I manage to catch myself but he still gets his way by reaching for that same hand that caught my fall and twisting it behind my back.

"Ah!" I scream out in pain.

He is breaking my arm.

He is breaking my arm.

He is breaking my arm.

He is breaking my arm.

He is breaking my arm.

He is breaking my arm.

"You think that you can fool me?" He screams. His breath reeks of whisky. "You stupid bitch!"

"I…. didn't…. I just went to Mollie's," I cry, trying to hide the pain from my voice, but that is impossible.

"Oh you just went to Mollie's," He laughs. He grabs my chin again, even harder than the first time, and twists my face towards him. I hear a pop in my neck. "Than why does your breath smell like alcohol you stupid bitch?"

I somehow manage to pull away from him and try to loosen my sore jaw. "That's probably from the glass you threw at me."

Oh no.

Oh no.

It's my protective instincts.

I didn't mean to fight back.

I'm just trying to explain myself.

This is about to be bad.

He suddenly lets go of me.

I gasp in shock and then quickly stand up, ignoring the stabbing pain in my arm and ache in my stomach and pain trailing down my neck and jaw. I gulp. What is happening?

I am used to the hits.

Used to the slap and the punches and the kicks.

This… now this I am not used to. I am not used to him accusing me of being a whore, and I am especially not used to him leaving before he got me at least a little bit bloody.

He laughs.

I freeze.

I think I die.

I honestly think I die.

I wish I was dead.

I don't want this.

I don't want this.

Please can I just die.

Please can I just die.

Please kill me.

He walks towards the table, towards his cigarette and towards my painful fate.

He picks it up, the end burns read, taunting me, laughing at me.

My body begs me to run away… but running will only make it worse.

"No daughter of mine," He speaks slowly, his voice curving viciously over the words. "Will be a liar."

Now I get it.

He called me a whore so that when I said I wasn't, which he knew I would because I'm not, so that he could call me a liar...

And then he could punish me.

My heart freezes over.

My face goes blank.

I let the numbness take over me.

 _Do your worst_ , I think, as he slowly walks towards me with that cigarette tucked tightly between his fingers.

* * *

I gasp upright.

My eyes adjust to the room as I breathe quick and fast, ready for the hit. Ready for the burn.

That couldn't have been a dream.

That was too real.

He's here.

He is somewhere.

He _could_ be here.

"Scarlett?"

I gasp and turn towards the voice. Paul's face immediately falls into a worried one as he quickly sits up in bed, his eyes wide with concern.

I place my hand on my heart and try to take a breath of relief, though it is impossible. I am breathing too fast for it to go away. I don't want to have a panic attack. I don't want to. I don't want to. I can't. I fucking can't…

But I can't breathe.

My mouth drops and nothing is coming in nothing is going out nothing is working nothing is working I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe.

"Scarlett!" Paul reaches for my chin but I pull away with a whimper, slamming my eyes shut. I am seeing stars.

I can't breathe.

"Scarlett, breathe," I hear Paul say, but his voice is an echo in the distance.

My brain isn't working. I am telling it to take a breath but it isn't communicating to the other parts of my body.

 _Please,_ I beg it, _Please I hate this. You know how much I hate this! Just breathe!_ But it ignores me.

I faintly feel heat on my cheeks and then I feel it on my lips. Paul's soft lips sink into mine and I writhe against him at first, feeling overwhelmed and crowded and attacked and trapped. _Trapped._

Paul runs his hands down my back and then rubs in rough circles against my shirt. I whimper but then suddenly, suddenly I breathe. I take in a breath, filling my lungs with air with pure relief coming right along with it.

I can't breathe fast enough.

"That's it," Paul continues to hold my face between his hands, though he isn't kissing me anymore. "You're safe. You're okay."

He kisses my forehead as I try to slow down my breathing and I close my eyes.

"No one's gonna hurt you," He whispers gently.

I whimper and finally press my hands to my face. "Oh my God," I whisper, forcing back sobs.

Paul pushes me to his chest and lifts my legs in the air, holding me to him like a small child. "It's okay, honey," Paul kisses my head again. "You're safe. Tell me what happened; you can tell me."

"That was horrible," I shake my head as I speak between breaths, still forcing myself not to cry.

"You're okay," Paul whispers as he rubs my back. "It was just a dream. You're safe. You're with me."

"Ugh, God." I pull my hands from my face and then lift myself up to wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly. I bury my face in his shoulder and take a deep breath of him. He smells nothing like the whisky or the spit or the burnt flesh that I had smelt so distinctly in my dream. He smells like Paul. _My_ Paul.

"Oh baby girl," He kisses my cheek and presses me closer to him. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" I blurt, my voice muffled by his skin.

Paul rubs small circles into my back. "I'm always sorry when you're upset."

I take a deep breath into his hot, hot skin. "I'm fine."

"Scarlett," Paul scolds.

I chuckle. I can't help myself. "Not _fine_ , I mean, I'm me."

Paul laughs and I love the way his chest gently shakes when he does so. I turn so that my cheek is pressing into his skin and then snuggle in closer to him. I frown when my cheek begins to slide down his chest. "Ugh, Paul," I pull away with a frown. "You're really sweating. Are you okay?"

Paul raises his eyebrows but doesn't say anything.

I scrunch my forehead at him, trying to figure out what is going on. He runs about 800 degrees, though I have never felt him sweat like this before. It isn't until I look down at myself that I gasp and suddenly understand.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim, staring down at my, no, _his_ shirt that is suddenly covered in sweat.

"Hey, it's okay," Paul says, stroking the side of my cheek.

"Ew!" My mouth drops as I run my hand along my side of the bed; the seats are soaked. "That's so embarrassing oh my God!" I moan. "That's disgusting."

Paul shrugs. "It doesn't bother me."

"Are you insane?" My mouth drops at him. "I'm so sorry."

"Scar," Paul presses my sweaty hair behind my ears. "You had a nightmare. It's really not a big deal." He pretends to sniff my neck. "What's crazy is that you still smell good."

"Ugh!" I push away from him and then climb off of the bed. "I am disturbed."

I feel disgusting.

"I need to take a shower," I moan and look at the clock that reads six am in bright, red numbers. Well, at least I'm up. I stand in front of the fan for a second and take a deep breath.

"Ugh," I moan and step towards the bathroom. "You couldn't be a cool 50 degrees at all times?"

Paul laughs. "I thought you said my hotness was your favorite werewolf perk?" He teases.

I giggle. "Which hotness are we talking about, again?"

Paul stands up and then walks over to me. He takes my face between his hands and holds it, resting his forehead against my own. "Are you okay?" He asks softly.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath; when I am ready I nod my head. "I l-l-love y-you," I sigh in relief once it is finally out.

Of course I love him, but it still is so difficult to say.

Paul smiles and reaches for my hand. "I want to dance with you right now," He speaks roughly.

I laugh. "I am a sweaty mess from hell."

Paul laughs. "You're fucking beautiful."

I roll my eyes. "Stop it," I giggle, trying to break away from him but he won't budge. "Paul," I moan. "I need to shower."

"I don't care. Kiss me, _now_."

I chuckle. "Fine. Come here."

"Mmm." Paul slips his palm across my cheek and kisses me deeply. My head is spinning by the time he pulls away. "Scarlett, you're perfect."

"Paul!" I moan. "Leave me alone!"

"My sexy little complainer," He kisses my neck and I bite my lip, not wanting to give in and fall into him but being forced to nonetheless due to the way my hormones take control of my entire body when I am with him.

"I am not a complainer," I try to sound tough, but my voice comes out as breathless.

"Mhmm," He breathes into my neck.

I close my eyes and arch my back.

"You're perfect," He gently sucks on that spot right under my ear that I _love_ him to go to. "Say it."

"Wha?" I mumble.

Paul sucks on the spot again.

I moan.

Woops.

"I want to hear you tell me that you're perfect."

I bite the corner of my lip.

No way! Is he crazy? Not only is that embarrassing, but totally ridiculous; I am far from perfect.

"You say you're perfect!" I counter.

Paul's hand slips between my thighs and my breath and voice and thoughts and everything catch in the back of my throat. He slides his hand up until it is so so so so close to that spot he was kissing just two nights ago but then idles it.

My mouth drops.

"Touch me," I breathe. My cheeks heat up almost as soon as I let that slip. Yet again… woops; I can't be held responsible for what my body does and my mouth says when Paul's hands slip anywhere below the waist.

"Say it." His voice is husky in my ear.

"Paul," I moan, my shaking thighs speaking for me.

"Say it," He demands. Paul just barely runs his fingers of his other hand along my tee shirt, right overtop of my breaths and I whimper when I feel my nipple harden almost immediately. I tilt my head back to press my lower half into him but he reaches for my head and pulls me back. "Open your eyes," He says, softly.

"Hm?"

Oh.

I hadn't even realized I closed them.

I open my eyes slowly, only to see Paul staring right at me. It's those eyes. Those amazing, beautiful eyes and that face that makes me want to tell him all my secrets, that make me unable to look away.

He nods his head slowly. "Say it."

I gulp. "I'm…," I blush. I can't help it. This is so embarrassing! I swear this is some cruel and unusual form of torture. My own personal Scarlett hell.

"It's alright," Paul says again, softer this time, as he kisses me softly. "Say it."

"I'm…," I moan. This is so much harder than I would have thought.

Paul rubs the inside of my thigh.

"Perfect!" I finally blurt. "I'm perfect, okay?" My cheeks flame fiery red as Paul smiles widely and I roll my eyes. He's just happy that he got his way.

Suddenly, Paul slings me overtop of his shoulder. "Woah!" I squeal. "Paul!" I exclaim, trying to pull down the long tee shirt that came up. "I-I'm flashing you! What is the matter with you? Put me down! Now!"

"No." He walks us into the bathroom and then I hear the shower turn on. Woah! What is going on?

Paul sets me down and as I am regaining my footing, he takes my face between his palms and then kisses the breath out of me. I feel as breathless as I felt during my panic attack but this time it feels uncontrollable in a good way, a really good way. Paul spins me around and presses me against the shower door, though he cups the back of my head in his hand to be sure that he doesn't hurt me.

I smile into the kiss.

I fumble for the shower door and nearly fall over when it opens, though Paul pulls me into his arms and lifts me up, carrying me into the shower before placing me down, all the while still kissing me.

Paul presses me against the wall again, holding my head again though this time he moves his lips down to my neck.

"Paul," I moan. I don't even sound like myself.

"What do you want, baby?" He speaks into my mouth. I moan and kiss him again.

The room is spinning.

I am spinning.

He pulls away and runs those hot, talented lips down my neck. He pulls my shirt down to kiss my shoulder.

I tilt my head back and feel the water beading onto my face, drenching whatever isn't already wet.

Paul kisses back up my neck and then gently nibbles on the skin right beneath my ear. I moan, loudly. "Do you want me to lick your pussy, baby?"

My eyes widen.

I actually lose my footing.

I swear I nearly pass out or die right then and there; either, or, really.

How does he speak so brashly like that and not get embarrassed?

He kisses me deeply, and immediately my head is caught in the clouds yet again.

"Do you want that?" He asks when we break.

I am so breathless my voice is almost incomprehensible… almost. "Yes," I breathe. "Yes."

He drops to his knees.

Paul reaches for my thighs and then raises them in the air, holding my entire body up with just his arm strength. He sets my thighs on his shoulders and I giggle.

"That tickles," I bite the corner of my lip.

Paul smiles up at me but then looks down. He wraps his arms around my legs and then I feel his fingers pull me open. I bite the center of my lip and feel heat rise to my cheeks. Dear God.

He sucks on me.

Intensely.

My mouth drops and I am suddenly moaning.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Oh.

My.

God.

I don't know what he's doing.

But it's a slow rhythm.

A slow rhythm that is fast enough to keep me turned on and feeling jolts of euphoria and oh my God my head is in the clouds.

"Paul," I moan, tilting my face towards the ceiling. "Oh!" I whimper.

"Ugh," Paul pulls away from me and moans into me. I think my eyes roll into the back of my head. "You're so wet baby. Are you wet for me?"

"Mm," I nod my head frantically. "Mmmm."

"You taste so good," He sucks on me and I writhe in his arms.

I have no idea what I am doing, but suddenly my hand is shooting down and burying itself in his hair.

Paul's eyes dart up to mine. They are surprised… pleasantly surprised.

He doesn't hold back anymore.

My moans come out in a tune now, every other second I am moaning and whining and biting my lip and not even trying to be quiet anymore because hell I can't focus on anything other than the tsunami of pleasure flooding through my veins at warped speed.

God.

Am I really going to orgasm _again_?

Is it normal to orgasm every time like this?

How do people ever stop having sex if it feels like this?

I don't even care; it feels too freaking amazing.

"Yes," I breathe, my mouth dropping as I feel myself going to that place again. Reaching my peak. About to hang there before all the endorphins in my entire body are released and make my body feel a pleasure that I never knew I could feel before.

"Yes!" I arch my back and hold it.

 _Yes_.

I am at the peak.

My breath catches in my throat and I hang there. Fuck it feels so fucking good I can't think I can't speak I can't hear I can't think.

I can't think.

Holy God.

Yes.

Yes.

 _Yes!_

I moan so loudly it echoes off the shower walls.

Paul places his hand on my lower stomach just as I feel it tremble. My thighs shake, and something about being held in the air makes it even more difficult to control.

Oh my _God._

I let out a long breath of pleasure and relief and fall limp, not even caring that I am still on his shoulders.

Paul kisses the insides of my thighs and I close my eyes, trying to get my breathing under control as water pours and falls onto my lips.

I am in heaven.

Paul is heaven.

No- Paul's _mouth_ is heaven.

He slips his hands underneath my thighs and then lowers them to the ground. He stands but my knees buckle beneath me. Paul catches me before I fall onto the tile floor.

"Oh, Scarlett." Paul wraps his arms around me and kisses the side of my head three times quickly. He takes a long, deep breath into my hair as I breathe into his chest.

"Thank you," I breathe into his skin.

Paul laughs into my ear. "You don't have to thank me."

I smile to myself. "Yes I do."

He pulls away to look at me and strokes my wet hair beneath his hand. I look at us, me in my tee-shirt and Paul in his shorts, both drenched in the shower at six, well, probably more like six thirty am now.

I giggle. "I think I am adequately cooled off."

"After that?" Paul challenges me. "I don't know about you, but what I saw was a Scarlett in heat."

I blush. "Shut up!" I shove his chest but he just laughs and rubs my cheek with his thumb.

"Hey Paul?" I ask as I rest my back against the tiles.

"Hm?" He asks, leaning towards me.

"What did you do, the first time you… turned into a werewolf?" I blush, though I'm not sure why. Honestly, a part of me still thinks that perhaps this is all a cruel joke and one time when I say the word werewolf Paul is going to be like, _ha! Just kidding! I can't believe you believed I am a werewolf!_

All I have to do is remember seeing Embry turn into a werewolf and I am once again a believer.

Paul's eyes grow wide as he breathes a long breath of relief. "I'm not going to lie to you, sweetheart, for a second there I really thought you were going to ask what I did the first time I did _that_."

It takes me a second to understand what he is referring to.

"Oh!" I gasp, my cheeks burning intensely. "No! Wha- No! Ew! No!" Honestly, thinking of Paul with anyone other than me makes me want to punch a wall and sob at the same time.

"Well," Paul laughs, effectively switching the subject to ask my actual quesiton. "When you phase you get sick, kinda. Almost like the flu. A really high fever and you just feel… weird."

"What do you mean, weird?" I push.

"Kinda like," He struggles to find the right words. "Like, this is a weird comparison, but you know how animals pant and their heart rates go up and they start pacing and get a fever right before they give birth?" My eyes widen. "It's kinda like that… only instead of that we turn into werewolves."

I ponder this for a moment, then can't help the laughter from bursting out of me. "I can't believe you just compared you turning into a werewolf to an animal giving birth."

Paul shakes his head and rubs his forehead. "I knew it was bad once I started it but I was already in too deep. I had to commit."

I laugh. "So, what happened after you got contractions?"

Paul narrows his eyes at me.

I giggle.

"After I got _sick_ ," He says pointedly. "It was like the littlest thing would set me off. I would think about it raining, and I wouldn't be disappointed, I would get _pissed_. And then I would start shaking, almost like I couldn't control it. Eventually, I got mad enough or scared enough, who knows, and I just, shifted."

I cock my head. "But how does that just happen?"

Paul shrugs. "I just kind of, did it. I think my body knew what to do, even if I didn't."

"And then Sam was waiting for you?"

Paul smiles. "You're smart."

"Who fazed before you?" I ignore him.

"Sam and Jared were before me, and then I phased, and then Embry and Jacob and Quil and Seth and a bunch of other guys that Jacob adopted into a pack, though they aren't close like us."

"Why?"

"It's a different kind of relationship. They're young, and many of them moved away to stop phasing. They only changed because vam- very bad circumstances."

I frown. "What kind of circumstances?"

He kisses me. "It is our job to protect people, Scarlett." He runs his hand along my hair. "It isn't always safe."

I grab him around his waist and pull him tightly to me.

Paul laughs. "Don't worry, baby girl." He takes my cheeks between his hands. "Fuck the universe, remember?"

I burst out laughing; I can't help it. Only Paul could make something like that sound so endearing.

"Fuck the universe," I repeat with a grin, and then I kiss him.

* * *

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!" Jacob begins boisterously, stepping into the kitchen with the cake Paul, Quil, Seth and I had picked up after the beach, unbeknownst to Nessie.

It is our last day here, and we spent the majority of it at the beach, though the latter part of the day we secretly decided to make all about Renesmee, which only seems fair considering this whole trip was, in fact, for her birthday.

"Happy birthday dear Nessie," We all join in, Jared and Kim running in from the family room to sing along with us.

I walk over to Paul and smile shyly as I sing. He reaches for my hands and pulls me close so that we are facing each other and my chest is pressing into his. I finish off singing with my cheek on his chest and his thumbs stroking my fingers.

Sometimes I wonder if any of this is even real; too good to be true comes to mind.

Nessie rolls her eyes but giggles nonetheless. Though she may be pretending not to enjoy the spotlight, she doesn't have anyone fooled. If she was blushing and looking around nervously and on the verge of tears, aka how I might act with everyone serenading me in a circle, than that would have really been proof of embarrassment.

She closes her eyes and quickly makes a wish, then blows out all of her candles in one small blow that doesn't seem like it would have been forceful enough for the entire cake.

"Let's eat!" Jared claps his hands and Quil ruffles her hair. I laugh, glad to know I am not the only victim to Quil's hair fluffing.

Jacob kisses Nessie on the cheek and it is so sweet, and so gentle, it is almost like watching a recorded video of Paul doing that to me. I stare for a second too long, smiling to myself before turning back to Paul. When I turn it is as if he was waiting for my face.

His hands are already up as he reaches for both of my cheeks and then pulls me closer. I have no other option than to melt into him.

"Alright, alright. Jeesh!" Jared shoves a piece of cake between us. "Shove your faces with cake, not each other!"

I blush. "Shut it, Jared."

"Paul your girlfriend is threatening me," He states blandly.

I roll my eyes, though Paul seems proud. "You bet she is."

"Do you ever get tired of him?" Quil asks Kim, directed at Embry.

Kim laughs. "Only on days ending in a y."

I giggle to myself as Paul grabs a little bit of icing up with his finger and then swipes it on the tip of my nose. I pretend to be annoyed as I wipe it off.

"Awe, I wish Claire was here," Nessie suddenly speaks, looking longingly towards the cake. "She would _love_ that cake. Is she still obsessed with baking, Quil?"

"Yes," Quil laughs to himself, and it is suddenly as if his entire face brightens in an instant. "Unlucky for me. She has legitimately almost set her house on fire… twice!"

Nessie giggles. "Well at least she's passionate! And I must say, she has seriously improved over the last couple of months. It's actually quite impressive."

"She's a cutie," Quill laughs and then shakes his head again, that sparkle still obvious in his eyes.

"Is Claire a girl Quil's dating?"

Paul chokes on his cake.

I pull back, started. "Paul?" I ask, slightly worried.

"I'm fine," He coughs. "This cake is just so good I forgot to chew. Try it," He shoves it towards me.

I tilt my face and look at him crooked. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course," He says, though he seems flustered.

I look over to Quil but he quickly diverts eye contact.

Point noted. Whoever this Claire chick is, she is obviously off limits for discussion.

I suddenly feel a little embarrassed; Quil and Nessie had just been having a casual conversation about him, yet as soon as I asked a question everyone got dead quiet. I know I haven't really been in the loop that long, but I can't help but feel a little left out.

"Presents!" I pop up, trying to change the subject. I rush out of the kitchen and come back in with a large, wrapped box in my hands.

"Oh, Scarlett," Nessie's eyes soften. "You didn't have to do that!"

"Of course I did!" I place it in her lap and then fold my hands politely in front of me, not at all trying to hide my excitement.

"You really didn't," She smiles. "I wasn't expecting anything! I just figured everyone would wait until my actual birthday."

"Oh thank God because things were about to get _real_ awkward around here," Jared breathes a breath of relief.

I roll my eyes. "You'll get one for your actual birthday too, I just didn't want to wait for this one. Open it!"

I clasp my hand excitedly and Nessie giggles at me. "Okay!" She squeaks.

Nessie pulls off the giant pink bow and then striped, black wrapping paper. "Quality wrapping job," She winks at me.

"Why thank you," I giggle.

She finally gets all the wrapping off and then pulls the box open, revealing pink tissue paper. She pulls that apart and then squeals, almost sending the present falling to the ground. In a millisecond, literally, she somehow manages to catch it and push it back up so fast that my eyes were barely able to catch it. I don't even know if I _did_ catch it. I blink a few times, convinced I am seeing things.

"Where did you find this?" She squeals, pulling it out and looking through the lens.

"I scoured all the little thrift shops I could find until I found it! Do you like it?"

"I love it!" She practically yells at me as she jumps up and attacks me with a hug. I giggle and hug her back.

"What is it? What is it? What is it?" Embry begins to chant.

"An old Polaroid camera!" Nessie replies excitedly. "Like a real, authentic one, though. Oh my Gosh," She laughs and shakes her head at the gift. "You have no idea how hard it is to find an original Polaroid. I can't believe you found this!"

I smile. "Luck."

"Pure awesomeness," She disagrees. Nessie pulls the strap over her neck and then aims it at me. "Smile!" She commands.

"What?" I ask nervously, immediately blocking my face with my hand. "Take Embry's picture!"

"No way, kid!" He tickles my side and I drop my hand, laughing on instinct. I turn to smack his arm, but not before Nessie manages to snap a picture of me mid-laugh. I narrow my eyes at Embry and point my finger at him.

He smiles guiltily; he knew what he was doing by giving Nessie that perfect shot.

Nessie squeals again when it comes out and then fans it off in the air. After a second she looks down at it and smiles. "Perfect!" I hold my hand out for it, planning on hiding it away before anyone can see it, but she pulls away. "Not for you," She rolls her eyes. Nessie turns and holds it out to Paul. "For you."  
Paul takes it and looks down at the picture. His face lights up into a bright smile and then he tucks it into his back pocket, turning to direct that smile to me now.

"Perfect," He repeats, though he isn't looking at the picture. I blush, remembering when, and more importantly _how,_ he had made me call myself perfect in the bedroom earlier.

"Everyone get in!" Jacob says, using his long arm to turn the camera so that it is facing all of us. Quil pulls me into the picture and hugs my side, while Paul casually strews his arm over my shoulder. I place my hands on the back of Kim's arms and pop my head above hers.

Of course, Jared is the one to say this. "Say, who heard Paul and Scarlett in the shower this morning on three!"

Everyone bursts into laughter.

I think I am going to faint.

* * *

Gotta love Jared making it awkward for a perfect ending, lol! Please let me know your thoughts, I love hearing from you all! Thanks so much for reading! You all rock!


	20. The Dinner

I really hope you all love this chapter! It is certainly one of my favorites :)

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

"Ugh!" Scarlett throws herself on top of my bed and then quickly scurries beneath the covers. With a heavy sigh, she throws the covers overtop of her so that she is completely buried.

I laugh to myself. "Don't mind me. I'm all good with all the bags," I say as I drop the two suitcases and two carry-ons onto the family room floor.

"Okay," I just faintly hear her respond.

Scarlett moans and then I hear the sheets shift as she moves around underneath the covers. I flex my muscles; now that I have slept with her, how am I ever going to be able to sleep without her?

I really can't complain, though; if sleeping with her every night is impossible, than the next best thing would be for her to drown the sheets in her particularly amazing scent.

"I can't believe it's over," I am barely able to hear her.

I sigh and go to sit next to her on the bed. My initial desire is to rub her back to try to make her feel better, but once I am unable to find her back underneath my comforter, and grow increasingly worried that I will accidentally grope her, I pull my hand away and place it back in my lap. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my thighs, and then sigh. "I know, sweetheart. I'll take you back though."

Her voice peaks in obvious interest. "Promise?"

I laugh. "I promise."

"That sincerely pleases me Lahote!" She says happily.

"I am very happy about that," I chuckle. As Scarlett continues to emerge more and more from her very tightly adorned armor, I am growing to love her eccentric personality that she has kept hidden for so long. Scarlett is _funny_ , not in an obvious way, but in a "blink and you'll miss it" kind of style.

"So are you good here while I go to practice? Or do you want me to take you home?" I hate to even offer that.

"I'm good," She sighs, and then she sounds as little less confident. "If that's okay?"

I roll my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course it is." Leave it to Scarlett to still worry that she is being too forward even though I consistently tell her that I love her and have made my intentions pretty clear with her.

"Okay." I can hear the smile in her voice. The covers shift and I see one of her big, blue eyes through a sliver in the comforter. "Just so you know, there is an extremely high likelihood that I am going to get completely naked and take a nap in your bed after you leave. Don't try to stop me!"

"You know what," I let out a long breath. "I really don't think I will ever try to stop you from doing that."  
She giggles.

"Actually, I take it back, if I do ever try to stop you from doing that, I am going to need you to shoot me in the heart."

"Yes sir!"

I check the time and hate to do it, but I know that I need to go. I already missed two practices for this trip, and states is right around the corner. I pat what I think is her thigh and then stand up and walk into my closet. I change into my coaching shirt and then shorts and fill my bag with all the supplies I need; I already have more equipment in my truck.

"I've gotta go, Scar," I say, though my distaste is evident in my voice. There is honestly nothing in the world I would rather do than take a nap with Scarlett, especially if she is planning on being nude.

"Okay," I hear her reply.

"Are you going to say bye to me or no?" I shake my head at the lump her body is creating under the sheets.

"Bye."

"Alright," I huff.

Suddenly, Scarlett throws the covers off of her and then sprints towards me. I drop my bag to catch her and then lift her off of the ground. I wiggle my face into the crook of her neck and kiss her.

"Stop!" She gasps. "You're tickling me!"

I laugh and nibble on that same ticklish part of her neck again before setting her down. "Oh, I almost forgot," I run my fingers through her hair that is practically white from the sun. She has freckles on her normally smooth cheeks and her skin is glowing tan. I can't finish my thought before kissing her.

Scarlett smiles into my mouth and kisses me back. When I pull away her lips leave an imprint on my own. Fuck, I have already memorized her kiss.

"As I was saying," I laugh and stroke her hair behind her ear. Scarlett giggles. "Are you busy tonight?"

"Extremely," She sighs. "In fact I have a date. Two actually."

"Oh yeah?" I challenge her, trying to conceal my laughter.

"Ye- nope. No I do not." Scarlett laughs and then wraps her arms around my neck. "I'm all yours Lahote."

I growl in the back of my throat and hope that she doesn't hear. With the way she just said that, I am tempted to not even ask her. We could do that another time, and tonight we could get warm under the covers and order pizza and watch a movie. I could rub her back and kiss her neck and, ugh. I shiver. I have a vision of her kissing my neck.

"Paul?" Scarlett giggles awkwardly. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah," I shake my intense desires for her away, for just a second at least, and then smile. "I want you to meet my mom. She invited us over for dinner."

Scarlett's eyes grow wide.

"What?" She breathes.

I cup her face between my hands and stroke her cheeks. Her face has grown pale, even whiter than it ever was before she was tan. "Scarlett," I whisper gently. I knew that this would most likely freak her out, but I have enough faith in _us_ at this point to believe that she can do this.

"W-w-well what if s-she doesn't like me?" She stammers, looking absolutely terrified.

I try not to appear as shocked as I am. "What?" I laugh. "Scarlett that's impossible. Like, seriously impossible."

She doesn't look convinced, and from the way that she bites the inside of her cheek I can tell that she is still extremely worried.

"Scarlett," I sigh. "You love me. She loves me. I love you, and so by default she automatically loves you, too. It's simple mathematics." Her lip twitches up into a smile and I smile reassuringly. "Promise."

Scarlett lets out a long sigh and then looks towards the ground as she purses her lips, thinking. "Well, okay," She finally says.

"Okay?" I try to hide my excitement in worry that she will get freaked out by it.

"Y-yeah," She bites the corner of her lip. "B-but what do I wear? And what time are we going? Do I need to bring anything? And like, what do I say?"

I raise my eyebrows at her. "What do you say?" I repeat slowly.

"Yeah," She scrunches her forehead in confusion. It appears that she views that as a serious question.

"Ugh, words?"

She shoves my shoulder and I can't help but laugh. "This isn't a joke, Paul! I met a mother, I don't know what I'm supposed to say!"

"You've never met a mother before?" I can't help but tease her. "Really, Scar?"

"What if I accidentally start talking about what happened in the shower."

My eyes widen. "Please don't do that."

"Well I might!" She exclaims. "I don't know what to say to a mother!"

"Okay." I place my hands on her shoulders and level my gaze with her. "You're freaking out. Everything is gunna be fine."

Scarlett's mouth drops. "Um, I am freaking out the perfect amount of freak out, actually, thanks for your unwanted opinion though, Paul." Scarlett rolls her eyes. "Oh my God!" She pops up. "I have to go!"

"You're leaving?"

"I need to shower!" She runs her hands through her hair. "And change! A-and bake a cake!"

I burst out laughing. "You don't need to bake a cake, Scar."

"Chocolates?" She clicks her fingers at me.

"Ugh, no." I bite back a laugh.

"Flowers!" She jams her fingers towards me and I pull back in surprise. "Yes! Flowers! Where do I get flowers?"

"You really don't need to get anything, sweetheart."

"Yeah, well, you know what," Scarlett laughs, accompanied with an eyeroll. "I think you and your loose, Paul Lahotey morals are setting me up for failure. What kind of flowers does your mom like?"

"Ugh, I don't know," I rub the scruff of my chin. "I think she likes anything."

Scarlett places her hands on her hips and then narrows her eyes at me. "You don't know your mom's favorite flower? What is the matter with you?"

I roll my eyes. "Alright," I laugh. "Be quiet and get in the car if you need to be dropped off at home because I'm leaving."

Scarlett scurries off towards the door and grabs her suitcase. She sprints to the door but her bare socks cause little friction between the floor and her feet. Her legs give out from under her and she tries to regain her footing as her feet slip against the floor before she finally falls face-first onto the wood floor.

I wince. "Scarlett!" I rush over to her.

Before I have a chance to even help her up she pushes herself into a standing and grabs her suitcase. "I'm okay!" She calls as she runs towards the car without shoes.

I shake my head, grab her sneakers, and then head down the stairs after her.

* * *

Practice is slightly rougher than usual.

By the end of it, my throat is coarse from yelling and my mind is swarming with new ideas for my offense. Holy shit, though. I knew that missing two practices was going to put us a little off track, but I thought that the other coaches would be able to pick up the slack at least a little bit.

What I was confronted with was an offense that was practically in shambles. My QB was throwing the ball around like he was back in youth sports, and I honestly thought my wide receiver had eaten greasy food right before practice and hadn't washed his hands.

I have states in less than a week.

I can't afford another practice like that.

Mike, the head coach, calls me to take about a game plan on my drive over to Scarlett's. He assures me that the team has just had a lot on their plate lately and have had two-a-day practices for the last week in preparation for the states. As much as I want to disagree with him and complain about what stupid, idiotic, non-talented idiots they are, from prior experience I know that there is always that one terrible practice before every big game.

I pull into Scarlett's driveway and cut the car off as I finish up my phone call. As soon as I am done I hop out and don't even bother knocking as I walk inside. Honestly, all I want to do is hug her.

I walk into her room ready to do just that, but stop dead in my tracks as soon as I reach the doorway.

What the fuck?

Scarlett's bed is covered, and I mean _covered_ in clothes. Her floor is littered with shirts and pants and skirts and dresses, too. There are so many different colors that my eyes are having a hard time focusing.

"Scarlett?" I call out nervously. "Did I bomb go off in hear?"

No answer.

I go over to her bed and carefully push over the mountain of clothes on her bed, worried that she somehow got buried under there and was suffocating. After I am sure that she is safe from death, I go towards the real culprit… her closet. Only, the clothes are all off the hooks, so it looks more just like a small room than a closet.

Scarlett is lying on the floor.

She is in a white lace bra and white panties. I gulp. Her hands are entwined at her stomach. She is starring up at the ceiling.

"Are you okay?" I try not to laugh.

Scarlett blinks up at the ceiling. "I can't go."

"Why is that?" I lean against the doorway.

"I have nothing to wear," She shrugs and sighs to herself.

I roll my eyes. "From the looks of it you have about the entire mall to wear."

"None of that is mom Lahote worthy. None of it!"

I sigh and walk towards her. I push some clothes away and then lie down on the ground next to her, staring up at the ceiling just like her as our shoulders brush.

"You could wear a paper bag and still be the most beautiful girl in the world, Scar."

It takes her a second to respond. "I want to impress your mom," She speaks quietly.

I turn my head towards her and stare at her face that is plagued with nervousness and doubt that is entirely ridiculous and unnecessary. Doesn't she understand at all how perfect she is?

"Scarlett," I begin slowly.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. She turns towards me and then rests her cheek against my chest. I wrap my arm around her bare back and pull her tightly against me.

She giggles. "You smell like grass and sweat."

"I am a football coach, love."

Scarlett huffs contently. "I like that. Love."

I gently trail my fingers up and down her back. "Well I love you, so it kind of makes sense, love."

Scarlett peers up at me from beneath her extremely long eyelashes- wait, is that mascara. As soon as I see her face my eyes widen. Okay. This is not good.

"Are you okay, Paul?"

I pull her off of me and then stand. "I will be once I clean all that shit off of your face."

"Hey!" Scarlett exclaims.

I laugh and go into her bathroom. I search for makeup remover but only wind up finding this pack that looks like baby wipes but says makeup remover wipes, so I go with those. I bring the entire pack into the closet, because I honestly just may need every once of them considering what I just witnessed on her perfect face.

I sit back down and the grab a wipe and begin scrubbing at her face.

"Jesus! Are you trying to take my skin off?" She complains.

I kiss her gently. "I'm sorry," I say. Even the thought of hurting her kills me. I gently grasp the back of her neck in my hand and then very carefully begin taking off the rest of her makeup.

"Did you have a bad practice?" She asks softly.

I don't answer. She has had real problems. _Real_ bad days, and she didn't complain to anyone, she just lived it. The last thing I should be doing is complaining about my football team.

"Paul," She pushes.

I sigh and then pull her head into my lap so that it is easier for me to get the rest of this junk off.

"Are you mad at me?" She asks nervously.

I force myself not to roll my eyes. "Of course not."

"Than what's wrong with you?" She pushes.

I sigh. "Rough practice. Not a big deal."

"If you're upset than it is a very big deal," She gives me a condescending expression.

I sigh and brush the hair out of her face. Finally, she looks like her again. "Promise me you will never wear that much makeup ever again."

"I can't make any promises. What if I get wrinkly and ugly one day?"

"Impossible," I smile down at her.

"What happened at practice, Pauley?" She touches my arm with her soft, little hand. "You can tell me. I promise I can handle it. Actually, it will probably make me feel better to know that I am not the only one with problems. You know what, why don't we just make it a rule that every time you have the slightest problem you tell me. Sounds good to me."

I laugh. Her logic is so ridiculously original; I can't help but love it, because a small part of it always makes just a little bit of sense.

"My offense is in shambles," I finally groan.

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. I missed two days not a year! They were acting like they never played a day in their life!"

Scarlett purses her lips as she thinks. "You think maybe they're just tired? I mean they did have practice all weekend, plus a practice on Sunday, which they aren't used to. Maybe their bodies were used to the break and needed it, but then had to practice Sunday and hence were all over the place today."

I can't help but smile down at her. "You know the head coach said that exact same thing. Ever thought of coaching?"

"Football?" Scarlett giggles. "No way! But I must admit the thought of screaming at teenage boys all day is definitely enticing."

I laugh thinking about little Scarlett running around, or rather, falling around the field, screaming in grown men's faces.

"You wanna make a burn book of all the football players?" She suggests happily.

"A burn book?"

"Please for the love of God tell me you have seen Mean Girls."

I blink at her.

"Lahote!" She exclaims and then covers her face with her hand. "Our next movie night, got it?"

"Got it!" I laugh. "I'll even buy you dinner."

"Speaking of dinner," She groans. "I got flowers, did you see them? They're in the kitchen."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," I run my fingers through her hair. "How did you get flowers, sweetheart?"

"I walked to town."

I groan. "You really need to stop walking places alone, Scarlett. That is the easiest way to kill me, you know."

She rolls her eyes and ignores me. "Won't make much of a difference if I show up in my underwear."

I cock my head to the side to get a good look at her. "I don't mind it."

"Shut up," She rolls her eyes and giggles.

"Alright." I pat her thigh and stand up. "Let's find something for you to wear."

She scoffs. "Be my guest."

I giggle as I walk out into her bedroom. There is no way in hell none of these clothes will work for her. I reach for the pile that I threw onto the floor earlier while looking for Scarlett's suffocated corpse and half-heartedly shift through. Clothes are not really my forte.

"Hey Scar," I call towards the closet.

"Yes?" She holds out the word.

I roll my eyes. "Do you remember that dark blue dress you wore that day I took you to get coffee?"

"You mean the dress I had on the first time you attacked me with your mouth?" She counters.

"Ugh, if I remember correctly, you kissed me, little girl."

"Semantics," I hear her grumble.

"Do you know where that is? That was pretty."

"No idea," She sighs. "And besides, I wore it a few days ago so I think it's dirty. Wait!" Scarlett emerges from the closet just as she ties a robe around her nearly naked body. I try not to look as disappointed as I feel; show's over I guess. "I'm pretty sure I have that same dress in yellow."

She peers around the room with a scrutinizing eye and then digs through a few stacks before she finally becomes victorious. "Aha!" She holds up the light yellow like she just won the jackpot. "What about this?"

She holds it to her and I nod my head. "Done."

"You sure?" She holds it out and squints her eyes at it.

I grab the dress out of her hands and toss it on the bed. I untie her robe and then let it fall to the floor. Scarlett's eyes widen but I force myself not to touch her like I most definitely want to. I gulp at her boobs though. God she has the best boobs; I haven't even seen them yet and I know they are just incredible.

I grab the dress off of the bed and scrunch it together with my hands. "Hands up for me, baby." Scarlett rolls her eyes but does as she's told. I smile to myself as I slip it overtop of her head and then pull it down.

Jesus.

The light yellow suits her tan skin and white hair just perfectly. The thin spaghetti straps show off her thin shoulders though the top is high enough to only give the slightest peak to her perfect chest. It ends mid-thigh and I am about mid-turned on.

"Beautiful," I say softly as I pull her by my waist to me.

"You think so? I mean, it's kind of simple."

"Simple is beautiful," I kiss the side of her head.

"I think I'm going to curl my hair," She sighs into my chest.

I momentarily panic. If the makeup fiasco was any indication, this cannot end well.

"I like your hair how it is now, Scar," I try to tell her softly, not wanting to offend her.

"It's just natural now, Paul," I can hear the roll in her eyes. "They'll be loose, don't worry."

"What makes you think I was worried?" I ask, though I was, in fact, worried.

Scarlett laughs though she doesn't respond. For the first time, I get the feeling that she can read me as well as I can read her.

An hour and some wavy hair later, we are in the car heading to my mom's house. I am freshly showered and changed,while Scarlett is showcasing her usual look of perfection. Thankfully, I actually loved Scarlett's hair more than I thought I would, in fact, I loved it more than the straight hair. Her long, white hair was bouncy and soft, but held some curls that were surprisingly adorable. She put some mascara and blush on, all that I would allow, and then she grabs the flowers, pink tulips, and has been on the verge of a mental breakdown ever since.

Neither of us are talking, though the radio is a nice background filler. Every few seconds or so I peer over at her, even more worried than the check before. She hasn't stopped bouncing her leg since we got into the car, and she it picking at her fingers nervously in her lap. She is gnawing on the inside of her cheek, too, as she stares out the window.

I reach my hand into her lap and entwine my fingers around hers. I was worried she was going to draw blood if I didn't stop her.

Scarlett squeezes my hand tightly but doesn't look at me. I rub my thumb along her hand and squeeze back. I understand why she's nervous, but I know that she has seriously no reason to be. If anything, my mom is going to be shocked at how perfect she is, not the other way around.

I pull into the driveway and Scarlett stares at the house, her expression blank and her hand squeezing mine so tightly I think blood isn't getting to it anymore.

"Scarlett," I say softly once I turn off the engine. She doesn't respond. "It's okay, honey. It's just like meeting one of my friends."

She narrows her eyes at me. Progress. "One of your friends who just happened to give birth to you and raise you."

"Exactly," I kiss the back of her hand. I sigh when she doesn't respond yet again. "I promise we'll leave if it gets too uncomfortable. All you have to do is… squeeze my hand twice." Yes! "Squeeze my hand twice and I'll make up an excuse."

That seems to bring some life back into her. "Really?"

"Yes," I laugh and lean over to kiss her on the cheek. "Even though I am sure everything will be fine, squeeze my hand twice and we'll go."

"Okay," She says after a moment, her voice quiet.

"Okay?" I ask gently.

She takes a deep breath. "Okay." And then she opens the door.

I rush over to meet her so that I can close the door for her, and then wrap my arm protectively around her shoulders.

"So," Scarlett sighs, trying to smile though it isn't the natural Scarlett smile that I love so much. "This is the house you grew up in."

"Yeah," I hug her tighter to my side.

"It's charming," She smiles as she takes it in.

I try to smile, but it doesn't come. I can't help but feel guilty for this. Here she is, looking at my childhood home and about to meet my mom and see where I grew up, yet all the memories she has of her childhood house and parents are torturous. I kiss the side of her head.

I didn't want to do this to remind her of what she never had; I wanted to do this to show her that this can be hers too. Regardless of my mom having been begging to meet her, a secret part of me wants Scarlett to fall just as in love with my mom as I know my mom will love her; I want her to have a parent that cares about her.

"Oh!" Scarlett grabs my arm and immediately stops dead in her tracks. "We forgot the flowers!"

"I've got 'em." I run towards the car and then grab them out of the back seat. Scarlett looks relieved when I return. I reach for her hand and walk her up the steps leading to the front door. I open the door because Lord knows Scarlett wouldn't be able to.

"Hey mom!" I call from the living room. I peer towards Scarlett as she takes in the room with wide eyes and a teensy bit of panic.

"You're here!" I hear her call from behind the kitchen cabinets. My house is pretty small, so the kitchen is connected to the living room, and the three bedrooms are off of a hallway behind that.

"Hi!" She says warmly as she walks into the living room.

"Hey mom," I say as she hugs me.

Scarlett doesn't say anything.

"And you must be Scarlett," She smiles widely and clasps her hands together at her chest.

Scarlett smiles and bites the corner of her lip.

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" My mom says, immediately going to give her a hug. My first reaction is to grab my mom and carry her to the back of the room; surely a parent being so physical with her so un-expectantly would scare the shit out of her. Thankfully, though, I am pleasantly surprised.

My mom gives Scarlett a big hug and then pulls away, rubbing her shoulders as she speaks to her. Scarlett looks slightly flushed, but okay.

"Oh my goodness you're beautiful!" She turns towards me. "Paul she is beautiful!"

"I know," I laugh. Scarlett giggles awkwardly.

"These are from Scarlett," I hold the flowers out to her.

My mom sees them and slightly gasps. She reaches for them and does that thing that I have grown so accustomed to throughout my entire life of her clicking her tongue along the roof of her mouth and then sighing.

"Oh, honey you didn't have to do that," She says, hugging Scarlett again.

Alright mother; enough with the physical contact.

"These are just stunning," She says with a sigh as she pulls away. "I'm going to go find a vase. Come in, come in!" She ushers us towards the kitchen and I reach for Scarlett's hand to walk in with her.

"You okay?" I whisper into her ear.

She responds by squeezing my hand… twice.

"What?" I can't help but laugh. "Babe we just got here! Come on, it hasn't been that bad so far, has it?"

Scarlett widens her eyes at me. "Your mom's great," She mumbles. "But did you miss the part where I forgot to speak?"

I laugh. "Here's your chance to make up for it."

I pull her into the kitchen and Scarlett looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"So Scarlett," My mom starts as she arranges the tulips in a vase on the counter. "Did you have fun on the trip? I hear you just _love_ the beach!"

"Ugh, it was fun, really fun!" Scarlett takes a steadying breath and I smile at her reassuringly. _Come on, Scarlett,_ I give her a mental pep talk _, Just be yourself._ Perhaps I should have said that out loud before dinner.

"And the beach?" My mom looks up to smile at her.

"Incredible," Scarlett laughs. "The only other beach I've ever been to is the one on the reservation, and it doesn't compare to the one in Florida in the slightest."

My mom laughs. "I can imagine. This is less of a beach and more of a sorry excuse of sand and some really cold water."

Scarlett giggles.

"You know what you two should do, you should go up north to this place called," She snaps her fingers together. "Now, what was the name of that? I used to go there with my girlfriends when I was in high school. I think it's called the Ledge's or something like that? But anyways, they have all these ledges to jump into the water and lifeguards all around. It used to be a big hangout spot for kids your age. Well, Scarlett's age," She giggles.

"Thanks mom," I moan at her bringing up the age gap, not that Scarlett has ever seemed to mind it.

She laughs again. "Hey, anything's better than those cliffs you dive off of! Dear God, you boys are going to get yourself killed!"

"Cliffs?" Scarlett asks, running a hand nervously through the side of her hair.

"Oh Scarlett," My mom places a hand to her heart. "These boys go up to the highest cliff they can find right on the water there, and do flips into the water!"

Scarlett's eyes go wide, but less with worry and more with excitement. "Paul we have to go!"

I sigh. "Mother, would you stop talking. You do realize that I spend half my life trying to keep this girl from getting herself killed." I wink at Scarlett so that she knows I am only kidding. "Scarlett's a bit of a daredevil."

"And you'd never know because she's so cute."

"Exactly," I laugh as Scarlett blushes.

"So what kinds of things do you like to do for fun than, Scarlett? Or should I even ask?"

She chuckles. "Well, I used to play a lot of sports at my old school but I haven't joined any here yet so," She sighs. "School is taking up most of my time. Oh and your son, too."

I wince.

My mom is where I got the majority of my sarcasm. _Please mother, for the love of God do not comment about her saying she "does your son" for fun._ Thankfully she doesn't catch it.

"What sports did you play?"

I laugh. "What sports didn't she play."

Scarlett blushes. "Lots."

"Volleyball?" My mom asks.

"You're looking at the starting lineup setter right here," Scarlett smiles.

Good. This is good. She is coming out of her shell.

"That was my sport!" My mom taps her arm. "I wasn't really any good at it, though."

"Scarlett's good at everything."

"Paul," Scarlett blushes and widens her eyes at me.

I laugh. "Well you are!"

My mom smiles. "You know, these flowers are just beautiful, honey. Thank you so much. I haven't received flowers in Lord knows how long."

"Oh, you're welcome," Scarlett blushes again.

"So thoughtful," My mom smiles at her.

The oven goes off and my mom grabs her oven mitts to pull it out. I grab them out of her hands. "I've got it mom."

"Oh, thank you honey." She rubs the top of my back as I set it on the counter.

"I hope you like breaded chicken? I made that and some homemade pasta and meat sauce."

"That's sounds amazing," I hear Scarlett say. "Thank you."

"Oh honey of course. I'm so happy you're finally here. You know I have heard so much about you! And not just from Paul!"

"Mom," I laugh, trying to discreetly stop her.

"No I have!" Of course she doesn't get the hint. "All I kept hearing was how beautiful she is! And my word is she beautiful!"

"Mother you know she can hear you!" I burst out laughing. Scarlett giggles too, not seeming too uncomfortable about being talked about in third person.

"And sweet! My son, with a sweet girl! You are a God-sent Scarlett!"

Scarlett laughs her natural, sexy laugh that makes me weak at the knees. There's my girl. I can't help but reach for her arm and pull her into me. Scarlett smiles up at me and I kiss the side of her head, wrapping my arms around her back.

"Paul's actually pretty sweet too, believe it or not," Scarlett says, turning towards my mom so that her back is pressing into me with my hands clasped at her stomach.

"I believe the word you're looking for is charming, my dear. Or a little douche bag."

Scarlett laughs. "Perhaps those were the words I was looking for, now that you mention it."

"Ladies please," I dip my head and kiss Scarlett on the cheek.

"Scarlett would you like some wine?"

"Oh, no thank you I don't drink."

My mom looks at her and then shakes her head. "You're an angel. An angel!"

I laugh and move her side to side. "Alright, can I go take Scarlett on a tour of the rest of the house or do you need to complement her some more, first?"

"No, go," My mom waves her hands enthusiastically. "I'll finish up in here and then call you when it's ready."

"A-are you sure you don't need help setting the table or anything? I'll probably be more harm than help in the kitchen but I could certainly give it a go!" Scarlett offers.

"Oh honey you're so sweet," My mom gushes. "No, no, go look at the house. It'll take you about five seconds. It's a little thing!"

Scarlett chuckles. "I think it's charming. And I mean the good charming, not the Paul charming."

They laugh and it makes my heart rate decrease. I knew my mom would love her; how could she not?

"You two are so cute. My God," She shakes her head at us as we walk away.

I reach for Scarlett's hand and pull her into the hallway leading to the bedrooms. "Told ya," I squeeze her hand.

Scarlett smiles and rests her cheek on my shoulder, wrapping her arm around my muscle and hugging me as we walk.

I show her my mom's room and then the guest room before my own.

"Is this your room?" She asks with excitement even before I open the door.

"Yeah," I say as I open the door for her and lead us inside.

Scarlett's eyes widen as she takes in my room. It is as if she is scanning every square inch of the room, taking in every last detail.

"Wow, She smiles and then bites the corner of her lip. She slowly walks to my bed and then runs her fingers overtop of the comforter. Fuck.

I close the door behind me.

"This is where little Paul Lahote slept," She murmurs with a giggle.

Scarlett walks over to my desk and then notices the cork board filled with pictures on the wall.

"Awe!" Scarlett's face breaks out into a smile as she goes towards the cork board holding pictures above my desk. "This is so cute, Paul," She giggles as she touches the corner of one of the pictures. There are so many pictures with all of your friends. Everyone looks so young; it's freaking me out," She giggles

My God.

She is just so beautiful. I watch her with admiration as she takes in all the pictures.

"You seem like you had such a great childhood," She smiles faintly to herself.

My heart breaks, just like that. I _did_ have a great childhood, and she was getting beat up. I suddenly know what I need to do; I want to make her feel good, and forget about everything bad that has ever happened to her.

I walk up to her back and just stare at the way that her white, blonde hair flows in soft curls down her back and her tiny body fills out that light yellow dress. I hold my hands in the air, about to touch her but then realizing that I am absolutely, positively inadequate. I don't know how to touch her to fix everything terrible that has ever happened to her.

I slowly brush the hair off of her shoulder and just barely rub the back of my fingers along her skin. I can't imagine it not smooth like it is now; my mind flashes back to the bruises I saw on her back and I have to close my eyes. I can't think about that.

Slowly, I lean down and kiss her shoulder. I pull away and brush that same spot with my fingertips and then kiss her again, right next to where I just kissed her.

"Paul," She whispers. Her voice has taken on that sexy, low quality that happens when she gets turned on. I smile into her soft skin.

I press my hands to her waist and gently turn her. I effortlessly lift her onto the desk and her eyes widen.

"Paul," She laughs nervously.

I ignore her and cup her head in my palm as I begin kissing her neck.

"Paul," She breathes, though it is not at all a complaint now.

I move my lips to her collarbone and pull away to run my finger up and down the bone. It is surely one of my favorite spots on her entire body.

I kiss her neck again, right in that spot that I know she likes and then pull the strap of her dress down, following the strap with my lips. When I push it back up I do the same thing.

My hands fall to her hips and I slide them underneath her dress. I latch my fingers underneath her panties and pull them off of her, sliding them down her thighs and then onto the floor.

"Paul!" Scarlett's eyes grow as wide as saucers. She peers towards the door but doesn't say anything else.

"Yes?" I ask as I lean down and kiss the tops of her thighs.

"Y-your mom's in the other room," She giggles to herself.

I smile into her skin and then pull her down the table, closer to me.

"This is crazy!" She whisper yells to me, though she sounds like she is more convincing herself than me.

"Shhh," I kneel down in front of her and kiss the insides of her thighs. I pull her legs open and immediately get turned on just seeing her. Scarlett has the most beautiful _everything_ I have ever seen before.

"Mmm," I smile as I kiss her clit, right where I know will make her give in.

Scarlett gasps and then she moans.

"Scarlett," I laugh and pull away. "You need to be quiet sweetheart, okay?"

Scarlett blushes but then she nods her head. "Okay."

I am not sure if I believe her when she says okay, but I am going to have to.

I lick her clit, keeping my tongue soft but quick, just how she likes it, and she tips her head back and closes her eyes.

 _Yes._

I want to make Scarlett feel good.

I want to make her body shake because it is so overwhelmed with pleasure it doesn't have any other choice.

I want to erase every mark that was ever made on her or any time anyone ever hurt this perfect, perfect body, and replace it with only good feelings.

I let my hand slide up her thigh to her hip bone, and find that particular scar. I think it is right in this moment that I realize what a heartbreaking coincidence it is that her nickname from me is Scar. I run my finger along the scar again and again. This is my first order of business.

I kiss her clit but then kiss my way up to that scar. I kiss across the line and then back again, sucking on the middle of it and making her gasp.

I smile.

She is trying so hard to be quiet.

It's so sexy.

"Paul," She complains after a moment, her voice breathless and raspy.

I kiss a trail down to where she really wants me to go.

Scarlett is a little blondie everywhere, and I love it. She is perfectly light pink and tight and innocent and sweet.

My Scarlett.

It is my job to learn this perfect body and figure out every way that I can make her cum.

I flick her clit and she bites her lip. A soft moan escapes from her lips but she slams her mouth shut and moves her head from side to side. Her arms are extended behind her, holding onto the table. It is sexy as fuck.

I go back to the quick rhythm but gentle movement and I feel her beginning to tighten.

Fuck.

I can make her cum so quickly.

I love it so fucking much.

Scarlett's nails make a noise against the desk as she arches her back. "Paul," She murmurs, her voice quieter than I am sure she wants it to be.

God. She is so naturally sexy.

Girls have said my name during sex before, don't get me wrong, but it is the _way_ that Scarlett says my name that sends my head spinning. It is completely natural, not forced or planned or acted. I am the one pleasing her, and so she calls out my name. I fucking love it.

She bites the center of her lip and somehow manages to contain a moan as she near reaches her peak.

It is incredible how loud Scarlett usually is considering how shy she is.

Her body freezes.

I know that she loves this part.

The trick is to not stop, not to change anything, not at all. When a girl starts cumming, most guys start moving faster or harder or deeper, but that is a rookie mistake. If it's making her cum, than it is what she wants during her orgasm too. In fact, most times it will even mess with the orgasm if you veer off track at the last minute.

Scarlett gasps loudly and her mouth drops. A quiver comes from her abdomen all the way down to her thighs, and I place both of my hands on her thighs so that I can feel it better. She shakes twice, her entire body shaking with the movement, and then her mouth closes and she loses the tension in her body.

With her eyes still closed, she mumbles something incoherent to herself just as she falls back. I catch her by her arms and pull her back up before she manages to hurt herself.

"Scarlett," I kiss the side of her head and hug her to my chest. God, she is so perfect. I love how after I make her cum she can barely sit up straight. I love that I made her feel _that good._ "You're perfect."

She breathes hard into my shoulder but doesn't respond, not that I need her to. I am perfectly content with her remaining in her little bubble of bliss for as long as she would like.

"Dinner's ready!" I hear my mom call from the kitchen.

Scarlett giggles and pulls away from me, her cheeks suddenly red. "I can't believe we just did that!"

I press her hair behind both of her ears and kiss her softly. After I am finished I reach for her underwear off of the floor and then slip them back onto her, taking extra time to skim my fingers along her thighs, though that was for purely selfish benefits.

"Do you think she'll know?" Scarlett bites her lip.

"No," I laugh. "But go clean yourself up, and wash your hands. And you could use a little bit of soap on your underwear too to make sure it doesn't smell."

Scarlett's eyes pop. "Do I smell?" She gasps.

I laugh. "I love the way you smell, Scar." I kiss her forehead.

I really do.

She blushes and the pushes herself into a standing. "Fine! But I'm not going to ask how you know all this!"

I chuckle, but secretly I am extremely happy with that, because I would really not like to have to explain it.

Dinner goes surprisingly fluid. Though Scarlett really doesn't say much, she responds articulately and sweetly when asked direct questions, and giggles at other times. Thankfully my mom is naturally an extremely talkative person, so she keeps the conversation flowing easily without Scarlett having to try too hard, though I can tell that she _is_ really trying, which makes me want to kiss her, but what's new?

After dinner Scarlett offers to help clear the plates but of course my mom doesn't let her.

"Alright," She says, after she cleared the table. "Paul I've got a surprise for you."

"Please tell me it's pie. Please tell me it's pie. Please tell me it's pie. Please tell me it's pie."

"So it's pie," She pretends like she doesn't hear me.

"Oh yeah!" I pat my stomach and Scarlett giggles. "Scar, my mom makes the best apple pie in the world."

She giggles "Well than I'm excited."

"No way," I pretend to scoff at her. "All mine. Get your own little girl."

"Actually I made this for Scarlett," My mom cuts in, setting the perfect, pristine apple pie right in front of her, "So it is up to her whether she wants to share."

Scarlett raises her eyebrows at me and smiles devilishly.

"Oh no," I moan. "Don't do this to me."

"I am _really_ hungry," She sighs.

I shake my head at her. "You just think you're so funny."

Scarlett giggles and then pushes the pie over to me.

I moan in appreciation and then cut myself a giant piece. I reach for Scarlett's place and cut her a big piece, for her at least.

As soon as she tries it I watch in admiration as she pretends to pass out. Scarlett slides down in her seat and then strews her hand over her head dramatically as she closes her eyes and moans.

I laugh. "Told you."

"That is incredible!" She moans as she sits up.

"I'm glad you like it, Scarlett," My mom laughs.

After desert Scarlett excuses herself to the bathroom and I begin helping my mom clean up.

My mom has a smile on her face that is giving me the serious vibe that she has something to say.

"What?" I ask.

She shakes her head, though that weird smile that I have never quite seen before is still there.

"What?" I complain.

"Nothing," My mom finally laughs. "She's beautiful. And sweet. Surprisingly very shy, too."

"Yeah she was really nervous to meet you. I thought her room turned into World War 3 with her clothes."

She laughs easily. "She's amazing, Paul. I'm so happy for you. And you know, I never told you this, and I'm not even sure why; I guess I just always knew that it would take the right girl, but the way that you used to treat girls, the way that you used to use them, it always made me feel like a bad mother, like I had failed you in a way. I know that you never had your father around, and I thought that maybe without a male figure I hadn't done a good enough job teaching you to respect women."

"Mom," I begin, suddenly feeling terrible. I had no idea that she even know about all the girls; I had never introduced her to any of them.

"But," She holds up her finger, silencing me in an instant. "How you act towards Scarlett," She shakes her head and suddenly looks as if she is about to cry, "That was beautiful, Paul. I am so happy that you finally found someone that you care more about than you do yourself. It's sweet to see, really."

I smile and hug her tightly.

"You didn't fail me mom, you never could."

"Oh hush," She breaks from me and shoos my words away. "Don't go making me emotional now, dear Lord in heaven! I am already about to cry at that fact that you found someone so great!"

Scarlett re-enters the room and hugs me without me having to make the first move, which I am extremely proud of her for considering my mother is in the room to see. I wrap my arm around her and start moving my hand in small circles overtop of her back.

"What did I miss?" She asks sweetly.

I smile and place a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Nothing, beautiful."

She blushes.

I notice my mom smile out of the corner of my eye.

* * *

"Please, please, please drive safe!" My mom says to me as she hugs me goodbye.

"I will," I reassure her.

"And Scarlett," My mom hugs her tightly and hangs on just a little bit longer than she held onto me. "It was so, so, so nice meeting you, sweetheart." She kisses Scarlett's cheek and I notice her blush.

"It was so nice meeting you too," Scarlett replies. "Thank you for everything, really."

"Oh please," My mom waves her hand in front of her. "You are welcome anytime. Anytime, you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am," Scarlett laughs.

"Seriously," My mom rubs her arms. "Anytime. And I will definitely be bothering you to come over now, too. I was in need of some more estrogen around here!"

Scarlett giggles. I roll my eyes.

"Come on mom, you're holding my girlfriend hostage.

She hugs her one last time and then I reach for Scarlett's hand.

"Please call when you get home!" My mom calls out as I hold Scarlett's door open for her.

"Yeah, yeah," I sigh as I get into the driver's side.

We both wave to her as we pull out onto the road. As soon as we are gone Scarlett starts laughing.

"What?" I ask, turning towards her with a smile.

"Nothing," She continues to laugh. "It's just, I totally see where you get the whole," She motions in front of me but doesn't explain herself, "From."

"The whole what from?" I laugh.

" _You_ ," She giggles. "It's so funny, you do some of the exact same things. And I think she called me every pet-name known to mankind tonight, so I totally get your use of those. Oh, and when she hugged me she rubbed my arms exactly like you do! It's just funny."

I laugh, though my mind is elsewhere. Scarlett is so taken aback that I would have some of the same personality traits as my mother, the woman who raised me. I guess Scarlett wouldn't really see any of herself in her parents.

I squeeze her hand.

"Did you have fun?" I ask her.

Scarlett smiles widely. Her eyes are glowing. "So much. I like your mom, Paul. So much. I hope she liked me."

I burst out laughing. "You can't tell from that whole exchange that, that woman practically worships the ground you walk on? I'm pretty sure at one point she referred to you as an angel sent from heaven."

She giggles. "Well I didn't know if she's like that with everyone."

I laugh. "No, not at all actually. My mom is ridiculously blunt, she doesn't have a filter either, as I am sure you could tell. If she didn't like you, you would have been able to tell."

"Oh," Scarlett sits back in her seat happily. "Well good."

We reach a stop light and I pull her close to me and kiss all over the side of her face as she squeals and pulls away.

"You're so sexy Scar," I tell her.

She blushes. "Thanks, Paul."

I smile so brightly I wonder how I don't blind myself. I think this is the first time that she has actually accepted a complement from me and not just ignored me or complained.

This girl is incredible.

She was so broken when she came to Washington, and yet here she is, trying so hard and making leaps and bounds and she doesn't even get any credit for it.

"You know you're incredible right?" I blurt.

Scarlett turns towards me with surprised eyes.

"I mean, you know that you're everything _good_ in the world wrapped up in one beautiful person, right?"

Scarlett smiles. "Paul," She says quietly, though she ends it there.

I smile at her and then reach for her hand, resting it in her lap as she plays with my fingers.

Words can not describe how much I _hate_ to ask this. "It's late. Do you want me to just take you home?"

Scarlett's face drops. "Ugh, sure," She responds quietly.

My lips pull up at the corners. "Or you could always sleepover at my house?" I suggest.

Scarlett bites the corner of her lip as she smiles. "Are you sure?"

"Scarlett," I can't help but laugh, "Please add that to the list of things to shoot me for if I ever say no to."

She laughs, and I bring her hand to my lips to kiss the back of it.

"Besides," I sigh. "I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep alone again."

Scarlett laughs, seeming to find that really funny for some peculiar reason. "Paul," She finally says. "I don't think I'll ever be able to be _alone_ again."

I love the sound of that.

* * *

I hope you loved this chapter as much as I loved writing it! Please let me know what you think:)

As always, review for an update!


	21. Christmas in October

Hi guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter; it starts with Scarlett's POV for a little bit and then switches to Paul's for the majority of the chapter.

*Disclaimer: I have no idea how football works and hence have no idea if October is a normal time of year for "states" or even football in general (don't think so) but I'm pretending like it is for this story- super sorry to all my football fans, haha!

 **IMPORTANT NOTE: As I am sure some of you have noticed, I changed the rating back to T! I feel that since the beginning of the story is so PG, it isn't realistic to post this as an M story. Chapters 1-16 are extremely tame, so at chapter 17 I added a note informing readers that the story changed from T-M so that whomever doesn't want to continue reading could stop at a good stopping point :)**

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Hey!" Nessie sits down next to me in Chem and I place my phone down and turn to her.

"Hi!"

"Jesus," She shakes her head. "I forgot how tan you got. And did you die your hair white or is that just optical illusion?"

I roll my eyes and shove her shoulder. "Leave me alone."

She giggles. "By the way, I freaking _love_ that camera. I took some super artistic nudes for Jacob and then put them in a little box and tied a bow around it. I left it in his car and am still waiting to hear back."

"Lovely," I sigh as I open my book to try to complete the homework that I know I won't have time to finish. "I totally needed to know that."

She giggles. "It's not like you're virgin Mary over here. _Ohhhh, Paul! Yes, Paul! Paul!_ "

I gasp. "Shut up!"

She laughs and passes me her homework. "Forgive me?"

I raise my eyebrows but then eventually nod my head. "Fine. But this better be a 100," I say as I write my name in the top left corner.

"It always is," She sighs. "Oh, hey, you're free after school right? Like 3-6?"

"Ugh, yeah I think so, why?" I respond absentmindedly; just assuming that she wants to hangout or go get a bite to eat.

"Great!" She perks up. "We are having a little party for you tonight."

My eyes widen and my pencil drops right out of my hand. "What?"

"Okay," She holds her hands out. "Not a party, more of a… celebration. Yes!"

"Nessie," I moan. "You know I don't like being the center of attention. And besides, what are we even celebrating again? And who is we?" I ask nervously.

"We're celebrating you and Paul! You're one of us now!" I raise my eyebrows at her and finally she rolls her eyes. Nessie reaches for my hand and pulls me to her; Jesus she is surprisingly strong. "You're dating a werewolf, Scarlett. It's kind of a reclusive little group."

"Oh. Sorry I forgot."

My phone vibrates on the desk and I smile to myself when I see Paul's name flash across the screen. We have been texting all morning.

 _I've got to get to work. Free tonight?_

She sighs again. "Only you would forget that you are dating an animal."

I flip my hair over my shoulder. "Oo well maybe if I'm lucky he'll bite me."

"You know what they say about wolves," She giggles. "They have no self-control."

"Do they say that about wolves?"

"They do about ours." We both burst into laughter and are reprimanded by the teachers, though I could care less.

I secretly pull out my phone and type out a response.

 _Yes. Later. Nessie is kidnapping me for some dinner at Emily's- movie night?_

His response is immediate.

 _Yes but no Titanic._

I try to contain my laughter.

After school, as promised, Nessie drove us to Emily's where it was practically like a surprise party. Emily, Kim, Renesmee and Leah are all standing in the kitchen that is fully decorated with balloons and streamers.

"There she is!" Emily says happily as she rushes over to give me a hug. I accept easily; Emily is a great hugger, as odd as that sounds. "Congratulations!"

"Yeah," Leah rolls her eyes. "Congrats on bagging the biggest man-whore in Washington."

"Leah," Emily narrows her eyes at her, but I merely laugh. Although I can tell that some of them have a problem with Leah, I understand her humor, and I really don't mind her at all.

Emily winded up making us all dinner, which was super sweet and not at all necessary, and then she made a chocolate cake that was _to die for_ , that literally said, "Congrats Wolf-Girl!" on it. I had to laugh.

"God that cake was _amazing!_ " I giggle, having just finished. "Seriously I don't think I have ever eaten anything so good."

"Isn't it amazing?" Kim asks. "She makes it for me for every birthday."

"Presents Time!" Emily says, tapping my knee and then standing up excitedly.

"Presents?" I question. "What- you guys, that is totally unnecessary."

"God would you shut up," Nessie moans as she sits next to me.

"Hey," Kim asks her. "How did Jacob like those pictures?"

"Oh, I was wondering about that!" I add.

She giggles and then looks into the air as if she is remembering something particularly enticing. "Let's just say I am sleeping over at Scarlett's tonight, got it?"

I giggle. "Done. I'll even talk about everything fun we did in detail for dramatic effect the next time I see your parents."

"You know you have met your girl soul mate when she plans elaborate cover stories for you to sleep over at your boyfriend's without even having to be asked," Nessie sighs contently.

I giggle.

"So these are from all of us!" Emily says as she puts a box into my lap and then a small bag on the ground.

"Gosh, guys. Seriously don't do this again."

"Open, open, open!" Kim starts a chant.

I roll my eyes and then tear open the wrapping paper. "A fan," I laugh, "This is actually great. I literally woke up thinking I was in the pits of hell the other night."

They giggle. "Just wait until you're _exerting_ yourself," Kim giggles.

"I thought I was going to die in the beginning, I really did," Emily says and then covers her face in embarrassment.

"Oh God," Leah moans. "Why did I have to come to this again?"

I giggle, because I total understand her predicament.

"Open the next one!" Nessie giggles. "I am so excited for this. Please, someone videotape for future blackmail."

"I've got it!" Kim says all too eagerly.

I look at them oddly but then place the fan on the ground and pull the tissue paper out of the bag. I see something small and rectangular and pull it out, examining the cover as they giggle. And you know what, it takes me _way_ too long to figure out what the hell this is, but you can't blame me; I have never seen them before!

I gasp and accidentally throw the box of condoms off of me in a moment of panic.

They burst into laughter as I literally _feel_ feat rise in my cheeks.

"Jesus," I giggle awkwardly. "What is wrong with you all!"

"What do you mean?" Kim giggles. "Protection is necessary! Those wolves are very fertile!"

My mouth drops.

"How do you know?" Emily laughs. "None of us have ever been pregnant!"

"Just a hunch," She giggles.

"See, so the next time you can be prepared," Nessie winks at me and places the box in my lap.

I raise my eyebrows. "Next time?"

"Yeah," Nessie says slowly. "I bet you were dying in Florida with the heat and who knows if you were even logical enough to use a condom!"

I gasp. "Nessie!" I giggle awkwardly. "Nothing happened in Florida!"

"Ugh," Kim looks at me like I am crazy. "I am pretty sure something happened in Florida."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, well, I mean yeah _something_ happened in Florida. But we're not- I mean, I'm not- I haven't,"

"You two haven't slept together?" Nessie blurts.

"Nessie!" I breathe.

"But how?" She leans in closer. "We literally _heard_ you! Didn't we, Kim, or am I going crazy?"

"No we definitely heard them!"

"You two are seriously on probation- from speaking, okay!" I exclaim. "We did some other… stuff but we didn't have sex, God!" I blush so intensely I actually cringe.

Kim's mouth drops. "What kind of other stuff would make you respond like _that_? I'm going to have to have Paul talk to Jared!"

I blush. "Paul is very… generous."

They giggle and I cover my face with my hands. "Oh my God," I mumble to myself.

"Alright, enough for poor Scarlett," Emily laughs. "There's more in the bag."

"I am not pulling anything else out of there!" I exclaim.

"This one's not inappropriate I promise!" She laughs.

I look at her uneasily but then finally decide to be brave. I pull out an envelope and take a sigh of relief. I pull it open and two different cards fall out. I pick one up that is more of a thick paper and squint my eyes at it.

"It's a gift card for dinner in Seattle!" Nessie bursts, too excited to actually let me read it.

"It's like, the nicest restaurant in the city! You can get all dressed up and wear heels and all that! It's so fun!"

I giggle. "So fun."

Leah laughs.

"I'm kidding," I clarify; the last thing I want to appear is ungrateful. "This is so nice, thank you!"

I pick the other gift card up and am actually able to read this one. "Awe, thank you!" I say, looking down at the gift card to a movie theater, "This is kind of perfect because I heard there are a lot of new horror movies coming out this month!"

Nessie sighs. "She is hopeless."

"It's for a date night for you and Paul," Emily clarifies, patting my knee. "We know things have been crazy lately and we want you two to go out and have a perfect night!"

I can't help but smile. "Thanks you guys. Seriously this is- this is so unnecessarily nice."

"Well of course," Emily looks a little confused.

"It's really not that big of a deal," Leah shrugs.

"Yeah, Kim finishes. "You're apart of the family now."

I don't think any of them understand how much that means to me.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I unlock the front door and step inside, only to hear the TV and see the faint outline of blonde hair.

"Scarlett?" I ask with an immediate, knowing smile on my face.

"Lahote?" She asks in the same exact way that I just had, mimicking me.

I chuckle, drop my bags, and then flip over the back of the couch to land next to her on the cushions. She jumps back, slightly startled, but then laughs.

I wrap my arm around her back and nuzzle my face into her neck. "How was Em's?"

"Mmmm." Scarlett turns so that she is facing me and then lifts her knee to stretch it overtop of my abdomen. I latch my hand underneath her knee to pull her closer as she begins playing with the collar of my shirt. "Fine." She watches her fingers instead of me.

I run my palm overtop of her hair. "Just fine?" I ask.

Scarlett bites the middle of her lip and then blushes. I look at her oddly out of the corner of my eye; what the hell happened at this dinner?

"Hey Paul?" She raises her huge, blue eyes up to meet mine and I watch with admiration as she blinks, unknowingly being the most beautiful girl in the world.

"What?" I kiss her forehead.

"When do you think we'll have sex?"

My eyes bulge out of my head.

 _What did she just ask?_

I surely couldn't have heard her right, but I definitely know what she asked. I gulp. Scarlett is so shy and then suddenly she will hit me with these ridiculously innocent yet blunt moments of vulgar honesty.

"W-what?" I clear my throat.

Scarlett's cheeks flush and she suddenly seems to realize the magnitude of her question. I swear I would pay anything just to see inside of her mind for two seconds; how does one just let a question like that accidentally slip?

"Nevermind," She mumbles.

"No, not nevermind," I try not to laugh as I place a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why? Have you been thinking about it?"

Scarlett's eyes widen for a second before she giggles nervously and bites the corner of her lip. Does she not realize that when she is constantly biting her lip like that every five seconds all I do is think about having sex with her?

"N-not really," She stumbles with her words for a moment. "I just got to thinking about it as I was laying here."

I stifle a laugh. "How does one get to thinking about that?"

"Well," I feel her fingers begin pulling at my collar again. "The girls… said some things today."

My heart drops into my stomach.

"What kinds of things?" I demand. I swear to God if Leah mentioned all the girls I have been with I will attack her myself.

"Well, not so much say as imply," She blushes again.

I am so confused.

"What did they imply, honey?" I try to make my tone of voice as gentle as possible. "That I needed sex?"

Scarlett gasps slightly. "W-no. J-just that they thought we were already, maybe, like, having it. D-do you need to?"

I roll my eyes. "I need _you_. Why would they think we're having sex?"

Now Scarlett is the one to roll her eyes. "Apparently I am very… vocal." She turns into a tomato before my very eyes.

I can't help but laugh.

She smacks my chest and then narrows her eyes at me. "Why would you let me do that? You're the experienced one! You should have told me not to be that loud!"

I widen my eyes at her. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but I'm never going to tell you to be quieter when you're moaning from something that I am doing."

She lets out an embarrassed sigh and then gulps. I swear one day she is going to drop over dead from how ridiculously embarrassed she gets at just about everything.

"So you don't want to have sex?" I try to take the bluntness away from that statement, but there isn't really a way to dull it down while still asking it.

"No!" She nearly screams. I jump back. "I mean, no offense or anything. I am sure sex with you would be…," Her eyes widen and her cheeks redden. "Yeah," She shakes her head and lets a quick breath. I press my lips together to keep from laughing. "I'm just very… comfortable with what we are doing now."

I smile. "That's all I want."

"Really?" She bites the center of her cheek and looks up at me. Her beautiful, hopeful eyes are staring at me like I hold the key to the world. I gulp. Sometimes I wonder how on earth I could do right by her and give her everything that she so very deserves.

"Of course," I kiss her gently.

I had hoped that that would have done the trick, but she still looks very uncertain. "I mean, you don't have to anymore if you don't want to."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "What?"

"Like, you know," She nudges her head down for me to understand and when I do my eyes grow wide. I am quite sure that she is referring to how I have been venturing beneath her skirt as of lately.

"What?" I ask slowly.

"It's just, I know you're not getting anything in return. I mean, I could try; I don't think I'd be any good at it but," She mumbles that last part.

Not any good at it? Is she _insane?_

I let a quick breath of disbelief slip between my lips and Scarlett's forehead scrunches in grief.

"Scarlett," I sigh and take her soft cheeks between my hands. "I don't want anything in return."

"You don't?" She seems genuinely surprised.

"Of course not! I mean, I want it, one day, but I don't expect it at all. And would you stop putting yourself down like that? You are the sexiest woman I have ever seen."

I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she ponders this and ignores my complement. "Hm."

"Quite honestly, Scar, we'll probably have sex before you do any of that for me."

Scarlett appears taken aback. "Really?" She breathes.

The last thing I want to do is freak her out, but this is important; I hadn't realized exactly how important until about five minutes ago. Of course she would be worried about me expecting sex, that's all I have ever done, that's all she's ever _heard._

"Yes," I state seriously. "I don't think there's a need for me to singularly be pleased for a long time. What makes me happy is making _you_ feel good."

Scarlett makes an incomprehensible sound in the back of her throat but then clears it away. I worry that she may pass out. "W-well, okay," She breaths, her voice raspy and kind of hard to understand.

I run the backs of my fingers along her red cheeks. "And you know if you ever don't want it, all you have to do is say so."

Scarlett blushes. "I usually want it."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "I can tell."

She giggles and then buries her face into my neck. I grasp the back of her neck in my hand and hold her close to me. "Should I even ask what came up at that dinner?"

I feel her chest shake against me. I shudder. Although everything I said to her is true, I must admit that not being selfish with my needs for her is the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.

Scarlett pulls away from me and then rolls off of the couch. Somehow, her feet get tangled together and she goes falling to the floor. I nervously look over the couch cushion.

"You okay?" I try my best to keep the humor out tone.

I don't think I have ever encountered someone clumsier. It is utterly adorable.

"Fine!" She giggles and then tucks her arms to her chest to keep her warm as she runs towards the other side of the room. She grabs a few things and then attempts to balance them in her thin arms as she rushes back over to me.

She dumps the contents onto me before climbing back underneath the blanket and snuggling in closer to me.

"Ugh, thanks Scar," I laugh as I pick up the giant box that would have seriously hurt when dropped on me if it wasn't for my being a werewolf and all. I hold it up to get a better look at it.

"A fan," I laugh. "Very original."

She smiles with the faintest bit of redness on her cheeks. Why would a fan embarrass her?

"It kind of goes with the other gift," She mumbles.

I scrunch my forehead together and reach into the bag. I pull out a small, rectangular box and my eyes immediately widen.

Condoms?

 _Condoms?_

They gave her _condoms?_

And a fan.

Totally fucking get it now.

I open my mouth to say something but no words come out. I drop the box of Magnum XL's- nice touch by the way, God those girls are in such trouble- and place the bag on the ground.

That was so unnecessary; obviously I have condoms for when that time comes.

"Well," I set the gift bag on the ground. "Did you pass out from embarrassment?"

All the nervous tension seems to leave her with her laugh. "Almost!"

"Proud of you for holding yourself together," I joke.

She rolls her eyes and then reaches back into the bag for a card that I had missed. "This one's actually not terrible."

I laugh and take the envelope. My fingers are a little shaky as I attempt to open them; jeesh, all this sex talk has me unstable. Just the thought of being _inside of_ Scarlett- Fuck. I can't even imagine.

Somehow I manage to get the envelope open.

I pull out a card and then two gift cards: one is a voucher for dinner at a nice restaurant in Seattle and the other is for a movie.

 _Welcome to the Club! Enjoy a date night on us! Xoxo_. All the girl's names are signed at the bottom too.

I smile. "That's sweet, Scar. You know, now that you mention it, I never did get to take you on that date that I practically begged you for."

She giggles. "I am not an easy catch, Lahote."

I roll my eyes and quickly put the card back into the envelope and toss it on the ground. I hug her roughly, but gentle enough to make sure I am not hurting her, and push her to my chest. I nibble on the part of her neck that I know is ticklish and smile when I hear her laugh. "You were just playing hard to get."

"Paul, I wasn't playing anything!" She struggles her way out of my arms. "I _was_ hard to get! Still am!"

"How still?" I laugh.

"Well you're not sleeping with me yet, buddy." She pats my arm as her eyes sparkle.

I roll my eyes but burst out laughing none-the-less. "Whatever you little brat."

She giggles and locks her arms tightly around my neck. "Hey Paul?"

I smile. I love when she says that before she asks me something; the thing about Scarlett is that I have no idea what the hell will come out after it. It is as endearing as it is terrifying.

"Yes beautiful?" I rub her back.

"Do you think we could have a Christmas tree this year?"

"Scar," I laugh. "It's October. What did Halloween ever do to you for you to forget about it and skip right over to Christmas?"

"Yeah I know," She giggles into my neck. Scarlett kisses my skin there and my breath catches in my throat as my arms automatically tighten around her. She has never kissed my neck before. "I was just lying here and thought a Christmas tree would look perfect right over there," She pulls her hand away from my chest and points it towards the corner of the living room. "And I thought maybe it would be fun to decorate it. Maybe- I don't know."

I gulp. I stare at that corner and slowly rub her back. "You've never decorated a Christmas tree before, have you baby?"

It takes her a few seconds to respond. "No," She finally says. "My mom had a fake one that she would put up every year but I think she only decorated it because you could see it through the window."

I pull her tighter to me.

"Did you decorate your Christmas Tree growing up, Paul?" She asks, hopeful. I close my eyes for a second. She sounds just like a little girl.

"Yeah I did, Scar." I run my fingers through the ends of her hair.

"You know you don't have to be careful with talking about your childhood, Pauley." Her voice is so sweet that I just have to pull away to look at her. She smiles reassuringly at me and kisses my slowly. "It makes me happy, hearing about it." She giggles. "And imagining you as a little boy."

My face contorts. I have never been so close to crying around her, and suddenly I can't help myself. I swallow down the lump in my throat and blink my eyes rapidly, forcing myself not to cry. Fuck. I have never cried in front of anyone before.

"Paul?" Scarlett's eyes widen. "Paul don't cry!" She chuckles as she grabs my face and shakes it gently. "Seriously please don't. It freaks me out so much when people cry in front of me because I don't know what to say or how to console them."

I laugh, because I could see how much that would be true. I clear my throat and take a deep breath in. Scarlett pats my shoulder awkwardly. "You okay?"

I laugh again. "Yes, Scarlett. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," She smiles at me. "Why were you about to cry?"

I sigh. "Scar," I sweep the hair off of her shoulder and lean down to kiss the skin there. I don't want to upset her, but I don't want to lie to her either. "You know how you said that imagining me as a child makes you happy?" She nods. "Well, for me, imagining you as a child makes me… makes me," I shake my head, not even able to finish my sentence. "I can't imagine someone hurting you, baby. And when I do it makes me want to throw up."

Scarlett looks towards my collar and I kiss the tip of her nose. " _You_ don't make me want to throw up," I clarify, because she nearly always takes these kinds of things the wrong way. "Him hurting you like he did does."

"I know," She chuckles. My blue-eyed beauty runs her hands from my collar up my neck and then back down to my chest. She sighs and purses her lips. "I'm sorry if I seem so blasé about it. I just, I can't talk about it. It's like, engraved into my DNA not to talk about it," She shakes her head. "It's weird. I don't know."

I kiss her forehead and then brush my fingers along the same spot. "No it's not."

"You know I don't think about it though," She tells me suddenly, her eyes wide and beautiful and so, so innocent. "I mean, not the way you think I do. Especially when I'm with you."

I do the best I can to smile genuinely. "But then why do you have panic attacks, love?"

She shrugs. "I started getting them when my mom and stepdad got married, and I've had them ever since. I think it comes from always expecting it. Like, what wasn't the worst part was the pain of it, but knowing that it was coming. Knowing how much it was going to hurt and then having to wait for it. And imaging what it was going to be and all the different ways he was going to-," Her voice trails off.

I rub her arms and will myself not to cry again. "I can't imagine," I tell her honestly. "Just spending every day waiting to be hurt like that." I shake my head and try to shake it all away at the same time. "I don't know how you did it."

Scarlett sighs. "Why do you think I was in so many clubs and sports?"

A puzzle piece clicks into place.

"You never wanted to be home," I finish for her.

She nods. "It was easier when I knew that I didn't have to be home until later. Sometimes he would even be asleep, or too tired to," She stops herself before she says too much.

I kiss her gently. "So since you're away from him now, are you not going to play any sports than?"

She shrugs and actually seems to contemplate it for a moment. "I don't know. Actually, what's funny is that I think I really do like sports. I like winning, at least, that much I know," She giggles guiltily.

I laugh. "I've noticed." I kiss her temple.

"Hey Paul?" Her voice is timid and quiet this time, like a little girl who just woke up from a bad dream.

"Yeah baby," I rub up and down her back slowly.

"You won't let him take me back, will you?"

All the joints in my entire body tense. I smash her against my chest and she gasps and jumps back.

"Jesus, Paul!" She giggles.

"Sorry," I mumble. "Scarlett, no one is going to hurt you ever again. I promise."

She doesn't respond right away. "How do you know?"

I growl deep in the back of my throat. "I have killed armies of vampires before. I think I can handle some sick, human fuck."

Scarlett jumps up on the couch and then gasps. "Vampires?" She screams.

Shit.

I blink at her.

"Paul!" She grabs my arm and shakes it. "Vampires? Vampires! _Vampires?_ Oh my God! Those are real?" I don't know whether I should answer that or not so I just stare at her. "Is _everything_ real?" She screams. "Paul!" She shakes my arm frantically. "Speak! You have to tell me!"

"Alright, alright," I sigh and sit up. I pull her into my lap and pat her back. "I wanted to wait for someone _else_ to tell you this," I grumble.

"Someone else?" Scarlett giggles. "Like who? Embry? He already kinda dropped the ball on the whole werewolf thing and we all saw how _that_ turned out."

I chuckle but don't respond. Although I can definitely explain to her what vampires are, I definitely think that I need to wait for Nessie to explain her families connection to that versus me; I mean, that's her best friend's secret to tell, not mine.

"You know how I said that our job is to protect humans?"

"Yeah I already know that get to the vampire part!" She squeals and I shake my head at her.

"You are so weird," I tell her. "You find out I'm a werewolf and don't speak to me for the day because I didn't tell you about it sooner, and then you find out that vampires are real too and you aren't scared- no way. You're not freaking out because they're fucking vampires you're freaking out because you want me to tell you about them faster."

"Exactly so start explaining!" She grabs my shoulders and giggles.

I shake my head at her again but sigh. I place a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear and sigh. "Alright. Well, werewolves natural enemies are vampires; we call them, cold ones."

"Why?" She pops up.

"Because they're really cold," I laugh.

"Like cold how you're warm?"

"Yeah," I bounce her on my legs. Sometimes I am surprised by how naturally intelligent this girl is. "But vampires are… different. When they're bitten,-"

"So they actually, like bite?" She interrupts me.

"What did you think a vampire was, sweetheart?" I try not to laugh.

"I don't know!" She giggles. "I thought werewolves were big, scary, mean monsters that ran around in the night eating little girls and howling at the moon."

I laugh. "That's cliché, Scarlett; I am disappointed in you. Yes, vampires do, in fact, drink blood."

"So cool," She giggles. "Human people blood? Like, how much do they drink? Oh! Is it like in The Vampire Diaries? Can they not go out into the sunlight without a special ring? And, Paul," Her eyes grow wide and she grabs my sides. Her voice grows quiet. "Do they really _never age._ "

"Relax," I laugh and kiss her quickly. "To answer your questions, yes, _some_ of them do drink human blood; they need it, like how we need food."

Scarlett blinks. "That answered _one_ question, Paul."

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. "What were your other questions again?"

"Paul," She grumbles and rolls her eyes. "Do they age or not?"

"Oh, right," I laugh. "No they don't."

Her eyes grow wide. "Never?"

I shake my head. "Never." Would now be a bad time to mention that werewolves don't age while they're wolves? I look at her wide eyes and brain that is practically exploding with new information.

Perhaps tomorrow.

"Can they go out into the sun?"

"Yes," I smile. "But they sort of… sparkle. Like a stone. Or a diamond I guess."

"Really?" She widens her eyes. "So, like, how do you know someone is a vampire? Like, what if my neighbors are ones!"

I brush her hair behind her ear. "Well, honey, vampires are different than werewolves, or rather, most are. _Most_ vampires have covens and they are sort of nomads, going from country to country kill- satisfying their cravings," I cringe at the thought.

She shivers. I reach for the blanket from off the couch and wrap it around her shoulders.

"What are the other ones like?" She pushes.

I sigh. "Some blood-suckers," I clear my throat, "I mean _vampires_ ," I grit my teeth. Jacob having imprinted on the vampire surely changed the way I view them, but sometimes it is so hard to change the laws that are silently written into my genetic code. "Are… good. Most aren't good. Most are bad, very bad. But a few of them try to live as normal people and only drink animal blood; they just have to relocate every few decades when people realize they aren't aging."

"That's so cool," Scarlett giggles.

I look at her funny. "Or evil."

She giggles again. This girl is so weird. "Tell me more."

"Well, I guess a big part of it is that they're technically dead."

Scarlett's eyes widen. "Like, dead, dead?"

I chuckle and run my fingers down the sides of her face. "Yes sweetheart, dead-dead. A vampire is created by being bitten, and I am not sure about the whole biology of it but basically they die but their body is filled with venom that makes them never age. They have red eyes too."

Scarlett's eyes practically burst out of her head. "Red!"

"Yes," I laugh.

"Well than how do they blend in?" She asks.

"Ever heard of contacts, beautiful?"

"This is crazy," She giggles and grabs her head. "Is everything real?"

"As far as I know," I hold up my hands. "Werewolves and vampires are the only supernatural creatures in this world, but I will not be held accountable if any more are discovered."

She giggles. "Can I see one?"

"No," I answer immediately, my protective instincts forgetting for a second that she has been around them for hours and hours; I think she has even slept over at the Cullen's before.

Surprise! You've had sleepovers with them!

"Well," She smiles innocently and reaches for the collar of my shirt. "Can I see _you_?"

I gulp.

Something about that came out… dirty.

"U-ugh not tonight," I reply.

Scarlett frowns. "Why?"

"Well," I sigh. "I want to make sure it is a safe environment. I want at least two other guys in front of you."

"In front of me?" She giggles. "Why?"

I look towards the floor. I suddenly feel terrible. Here I am telling Scarlett that I will never hurt her, when she was _with_ a direct example of how the wolf in me could, in fact, hurt her just as badly as her step-dad, if not worse.

"Well, Emily," I just barely whisper.

Scarlett's mouth drops when she finally understands and her hands loosen around my collar. She stares at me, unwavering. Her mouth trembles but she doesn't respond. "Oh."

I stroke the side of her face and tilt my face towards hers. "Scarlett?" I just barely whisper. "Baby?" She finally looks up at me. "Sam didn't understand what he was doing. He was the first werewolf of all of us and he didn't realize how uncontrollable it could be. He got angry, and he didn't know how to control it. He shifted and she was too close."

Scarlett gulps.

"It was an accident," I tell her softly. "Sam will never be able to forgive himself for it."

Scarlett nods her head. "I-I understand," She says after a moment.

"Do you?" I take her face between my hands. "Because I would rather die than hurt you, you realize that sweetheart, right? I would rather die. All I want to do is protect you."

"Paul, I know," She levels her gaze with mine. "Don't worry. Please don't treat me like that. I know that Sam would never purposefully hurt Emily. You can see all over his face how much he loves her."

I smile and gently cup her cheeks in my palms. "And what about me, hm? Can you see how much I love you all over my face."

Scarlett blushes. "I think so."

"You think?" I challenge.

She giggles and nods her head. "You see, I'm messed up in the head. I can't be sure what I am really seeing and what I make up." Scarlett blinks her lashes innocently at me.

I laugh and grab her face in my palm. "That is so not funny," I tell her just as I kiss her. Scarlett chuckles into my mouth but kisses me back, her soft, plush lips mending into mine as she deepens it. Scarlett flips her leg so that she goes from sitting across my lap to straddling me and I can barely contain myself.

I feel a piece of hair against her lip and swipe all the hair out of her face and behind her ear. Scarlett twists her fingers in the collar of my shirt and I suddenly I feel her slip her tongue into my mouth.

I moan.

"Oh, sorry," Scarlett pulls away from me and giggles. I have literally given Scarlett oral and yet we have never really made out with tongue.

A blush creeps up on her cheeks but I don't really feel like finding her cute right now. I latch my arms around her waist and lean into her. I kiss slowly and then when I pull away she bites the center of her lip.

"Mmm, sexy," I mumble into her lips.

Scarlett giggles. "I don't know if I believe you but I don't care." She kisses me again and I latch my fingers into her hair and hold on tightly.

I slip my tongue into her mouth and I hear the breath catch in her throat. A second later, Scarlett glides her tongue against mine and my entire body shudders. God I need her.

I suck on her lower lip, the one that she just always seems to be biting and making me horny and I she sighs contently. I smile as I kiss her deeply again.

Scarlett pushes against my chest and though she isn't strong enough to push me down, I take the hint and lean back on the couch. She pushes herself closer to me and rests her hands on my chest as she kisses me deeply.

Fuck.

Scarlett is so sexy I can hardly handle it.

She breaks from me to sexily run her fingers through the top of her hair and flip it to the other side so it doesn't get in her way. When I look at her, her lips red and her cheeks flushed, but not from embarrassed this time, I realize that she is as turned on as I am. Her eyes don't even look into mine as she sets them directly onto my lips and then touches her hands to the sides of my face to kiss me deeply.

I run my palm up her back and she moans into my mouth. I grasp a fistful of her hair and glide my tongue against her. She slips her tongue into my mouth as she kisses me ravenously.

I wrap one arm around her upper back and use the other to hold her thigh as I swiftly flip her over and lie her down on the couch. I slowly lower myself on top of her and watch as she bites her lip and her shoulders move up and down quickly because she is breathing so hard. Her eyes remain locked on my mouth as I move down to kiss her.

Fuck.

It's that white, blonde hair sprawled around her head. Those red lips and all the blood that rushed to her cheeks. It's those eyes, deep and blue but focused. I don't think I have ever seen her look sexier.

I tilt my face and try to kiss her softly, not wanting to seem like a complete animal, but Scarlett has other ideas. She clutches her tiny, fragile, little hand into the back of my hair and lifts her mouth up to meet mine.

"Ugh, Scarlett," I shudder into her mouth.

I feel her smile.

She wraps her arms around my neck and then pulls herself up into a sitting. She uses her body weight, what little of it she has, to push me down so that she is lying on top of me.

My eyes grow wide as she straddles me from this position and then bites her lip, concealing a wide smile, as she slowly leans down overtop of me.

"Oh, fuck," I grumble to myself. I ball my hands into fists and slide them underneath my back. _I seriously do not have this kind of self-control, Scarlett._

Scarlett giggles and then kisses me softly. She pulls away and then glides her hands from my shoulder down to my hand and then pulls my fist up to her mouth. My Scarlett smiles and then kisses my fist. Then, I don't like the thought of her kissing something that someone had once used to hurt her, and I immediately loosen my grip. She smiles down at me and then slowly places it over top of her bra.

My eyes widen and finally she blushes. There's my Scarlett. I run my other hand long her cheek and then place it on her other breast. Scarlett's eyes are locked on mine as I sit up and slide my hands from her chest to her back. I smile into her very confused mouth and reach for her face to hold her to me.

"You are so fucking tempting, Scarlett."

She smiles widely and then kisses me softly. "Than let me tempt you."

I laugh. "I want to but…"

What am I doing?

I'm not even sure; all that I know is that since all the sex talk, I want to prove even more that I can have self control around her, that it isn't about me but entirely about her. I want to show her that I can do this; I can be the one with the self-control.

"But what?" Scarlett's eyes are wide with everything that I haven't shown her yet and I suddenly don't want to rush this for an entirely different reason. Why would I want to rush that face? Why would I want to rush that child-like quality that would surely fade if we started having sex?

Not only that, but who am I to sleep with her when there are so many other things that she deserves that are so much more important.

I push her off of me, hopefully not offending her in my haste and then stand up. "Come with me," I tell her, offering her my hand.

Her mouth parts. "What?"

I can't help but laugh. "Come on."

"W-w-," Scarlett runs a shaking hand through her hair and gulps. "Where?"

I laugh. "Somewhere fun."

Scarlett's eyes bulge. "And you need to go to this specific place at this very moment?"

I pull her into my arms and lift her off the couch.

"Paul!" She complains, though she is giggling now.

"Do you have a coat?" I ask her. "It was surprisingly warm for September but now that it's October I think you'll luck's run out, kid."

"What are you talking about?" She bursts out laughing.

I chuckle. "Forks. You'll understand when it goes from 60 to 20 in a matter of hours. You need shoes?"

"Preferably," She giggles.

I reach for her shoes and then grab a jacket of my own off of the hook.

I am determined to give her all of the childhood experiences that she missed out on with a definite adult twist- hopefully that adult twist involves what we were just doing on the couch.

* * *

"Where are you going?" Scarlett trails after me with her arms crossed overtop of her chest.

"Just a little bit farther," I tell her triumphantly.

"Paul Lahote I am not going one more freaking step with you until you explain why the fuck you have an axe in your hand and are leading me into the woods!"

I laugh and turn towards her. "Put this on," I offer her my coat. "You're going to get a cold."

She blinks at me three times. I smile and drop the axe to go place it overtop of her shoulders. "Come on, beautiful."

"You're freaking me out, Paul," Scarlett narrows her eyes at me.

I laugh and reach for her hand, in the same instance picking the axe off of the ground with the same hand and then continuing on.

"I am insane," I hear Scarlett mumble to herself. "I am walking to my death and holding hands with my future murderer."

I burst out laughing. "Scarlett, I'm not killing you. And guess what." I don't wait for her to answer. "We're here."

I go to stand in front of her and then hold out my hands excitedly.

Scarlett looks at me like I have officially lost my mind.

"I'm going to go back to the car," She speaks very slowly.

I laugh. "Look around, Scarlett."

She does as she is told and then widens her eyes and nods her head slowly. "Trees. _Wow_."

"Which one do you want?"

Her mouth drops. "Which…tree do I want? Paul, are you okay?"

"Which _Christmas tree_ do you want," I clarify.

Scarlett shakes her head but then suddenly, I see everything click together. Her face drops and her eyes dart up to mine. She looks from me to the axe to the trees and then back at me. Scarlett's mouth trembles and then her hand comes up for a quick second to cover it. She runs that same hand through her hair and I notice a vein in her neck tensing.

"But," Her eyes are glassy. "It's October."

"Nope," I shake my head. "Christmas for us is right now. Tonight actually."

Scarlett smiles and then her mouth drops and she shakes her head at me. The tears that were condensing in the corners of her eyes fill over and she quickly swipes them away.

"You're giving me a Christmas?" She asks.

"Yes," I smile.

Scarlett purses her lips and then nods her head. "You are- you," She shakes her head and then takes a deep breath. She pulls my coat tighter around her chest and then she seems to go somewhere else for a minute.

"I love you," She finally says, staring right at me.

No hesitation.

No stuttering.

I just stare at her for a moment: blonde hair, beautiful eyes, perfect lips, and a whole lot of catching up to do. I reach my hand out for her and she slowly walks over to me. She entwines her fingers with my own and then I lean down and kiss her gently.

"Come on," I rub her back. "Pick a tree. Any tree." I throw my hands out like Vana White and she giggles.

"Alright; I am warning you though, this may take a while."

I smile. "I would be disappointed if it didn't."

Scarlett actually winded up "deciding on" four trees before she changed her mind at the last minute and started from square one. Eventually she actually chose a tree that was a little shorter than all the rest but much fuller. She is slightly amazed by my being able to easily carry it overtop of my shoulder. "You do realize that, that is a freaking tree, right?" She had said. "Like, you're carrying a tree right now."

I placed the tree into the back of my car and then kissed her on the forehead before we hopped back into my truck. To say that Scarlett was surprised when I pulled into my mom's driveway would be an understatement.

I told her to just wait in the car, though, and a few minutes later I was emerging from the house with two boxes filled with ornaments and a tree-stand (thank you mother because I sincerely forgot about that).

As soon as we got back to my apartment, I trudged the tree upstairs and put it into the stand. Although I told her she didn't have to, Scarlett somehow managed to carry up all the ornaments without breaking them, which is seriously a great feat for her.

I head towards the TV and go to the music channels.

"There's not going to be any Christmas music on in October," Scarlett laughs.

I ignore her. I remember my mom telling me once about a station that always played- _Victory!_ Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer comes out trough the speakers and I turn it up. I turn towards her with a triumphant look on my face and she just rolls her eyes, though there is no hiding her smile.

"Now you," I reach for her shoulders and then lead her to the kitchen table. "Sit here."

"Sit?" She exclaims. "Come on I want to decorate the tree!"

I laugh. "In due time, Scarlett. What? Did you think that you could just get a tree and start throwing shit on it? There is serious preparation necessary you hooligan."

She rolls her eyes. "Again, I have no idea what you're talking about."

I pull three bags of popcorn out of the cupboard and start making it, simultaneously preparing two mugs of hot chocolate at the same time. I have never been so grateful that I forgot to bring the s'mores equipment for a few bonfires ago because that means I have more than enough marshmellows to overfill her cup.

I place her hot chocolate in front of her along with the popcorn. I grab the string that my mom had given me and set it on the table. I cut her a long line of it and then reach over her shoulders to kiss her cheek whisper instructions into her ear.

Scarlett giggles and pulls away once I am done. "Is this really necessary?" She chuckles.

"You can't decorate a Christmas tree without stringing popcorn."

"Honestly I think this is just asking for ants."

"Scarlett," I nibble on her neck. "Shut up."

"Fine," She chuckles and takes a piece of popcorn to start stringing it. I smile contently to myself. "Thanks for the hot chocolate, by the way," Scarlett smiles sweetly. "It's delicious."

I kiss her deeply. "You're delicious."

"Okay," She covers my face with her hand and then throws some popcorn at me. "That was disgusting. Seriously that disturbed me."

I laugh and peck at her as she pushes away from me while laughing. I finally give up with one last kiss on her forehead and then take a seat next to her, starting a string of my own.

* * *

Hours and hours pass before finally I am carrying Scarlett up to bed.

We decorated the tree, I forced her to dance with me, and then we watched Frosty The Snowman that I ordered on pay-per-view. I think my highlight of the entire night was just seeing Scarlett's face as she meticulously placed the ornaments on the tree, redoing and redoing them until it was "perfect". I must admit, she did a pretty good job.

I can't forget to thank my mom for the ornaments; not only were they just the right amount, but this gives me plenty of time to get some of my own for Scarlett and I before our actual Christmas Tree goes up.

Scarlett mumbles in my arms and I hug her tighter to my chest. Once I reach my bedroom I set her down underneath the covers and brush away all the hair that is covering her face.

I go to pull away but she grabs my arm and pulls me back.

"I thought you were sleeping," I kiss the side of her head.

Scarlett bats her eyelashes open and then I am confronted with that beautiful blue that always manages to pull me in. I run my fingers through the side of her hair over and over again.

"The best day ever," She sighs.

I laugh. "I am very glad."

"No seriously," Her voice suddenly comes out extremely clear. "That was the best night I have ever had in my entire life."

I gulp.

I let my fingers drop to her mouth and trace the outline of her lips. Before I have a chance to respond, Scarlett's eyelashes flutter closed, and they stay like that until morning.

* * *

Whew! That chapter made me smile the whole time I was writing it! Please let me know what you thought!

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	22. The Big Bang

SOOOOO excited for this chapter. I skipped ahead a few weeks for states. ENJOY!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I climb on top of Paul's sleeping body and straddle his back.

"Paul," I whisper, running my nails up and down his bare back once. Good Lord, Paul is so attractive. I think God must like me a little but more than I always thought he did because holy hell, look at this guy in my bed!

Paul had surprised me by coming over last night after I texted him that I missed him. With preparing for states in the form of coach's meetings, player meetings, game-film viewing, team meals, and extra practices, I haven't been able to see him as much as I would like. But today, all that hard work is finally going to be put to the test.

"Pauley," I lean down to kiss his neck and he mumbles and then flips over. I giggle as I readjust myself on his stomach. Paul opens his eyes and then moans as he trails his eyes overtop of me.

"Fuck."

I giggle. "Good morning."

"Great morning," He sighs and shakes his head on me. "Perfect morning." Paul rubs my thighs with his palms and then reaches his hands up for me. "Come here."

I smile and lower myself onto him as he wraps his strong, hot arms around me and kisses the side of my head. I wish that I could explain how safe I feel when he is holding me like this; it is as addictive as it gets. I have never felt safe in my life, and then Paul hugs me and I close my eyes and just forget about everything that I have to be afraid of, because I know that he will protect me.

I take a mental note to stop being so dependent on a big, strong alpha male and to pull my own shit together.

Paul strums his fingers down my spine.

You know what, I am perfectly content being dependent on him.

"Why are you up?" He asks, his voice gruff.

I giggle, for it actually is quite surprising that I would _ever_ be up before him. We all know that I love sleep just about as much as I love Paul. Suddenly I remember the reason and pop up, the excitement flowing back into me.

"Get up!" I tell him. "I have a surprise for you!"

"Just take your shirt off," He mumbles. "That will surprise me, promise."

"Paul!" I gasp.

He laughs, his chest shaking in a quite annoyingly attractive sort of way. "I'm kidding, sweetheart."

"Than get up! Come on!" I pull on his arms but he doesn't move. I actually think he closes his eyes again.

"Paul Lahote!" I complain, "Do you even know what day it is?"

"Yes," He moans, "Which is why I need sleep."

"But I let you sleep for as long as I possibly could before I couldn't handle the excitement anymore." My pout is obvious in my tone.

Paul laughs and opens his eyes. "Fine." He sits up with a loud sigh and then latches his arms around my back. "You're so sexy, Scarlett," He tells me with his deep, attractive voice.

I giggle nervously and run my fingers through his hair. "Stop it, Lahote."

"You are." Paul nuzzles his face into my neck and then kisses me there. "I wish I could sleep with you every night."

I sigh. "Me too," I admit. Now that I have the fan that the girls gave me, sleeping with Paul is all touching and _no_ sweating. "It is hard to sleep alone." I giggle, "If you would have told me a year ago I would be saying this I would have called you crazy."

"Scarlett," Paul sighs. "If I would have told you this a month ago you would have called me crazy."

I giggle. "Come on." I roll off of him and then tug on his hand, though that does little to actually move him. It isn't until Paul actually gets up himself that I convince myself that I am strong enough to pull him out of bed.

"Alright, alright," He wraps cracks his neck and then reaches for his shirt from off of the ground. He is still pulling it overtop of his head as I drag him into the kitchen.

"Surprise!" I scream, sending Paul jumping back in shock as I giggle embarrassingly. "Sorry," I blush. "Come sit!" I pull his hand again and lead him to the kitchen island.

I rush to the other side of the counter and reach for the three pancakes all displayed in a triangle sort of shape so that the design is visible. I set it in front of Paul with a tub of syrup and clasp my hands excitedly at my chest.

Paul twists his neck to the side to be able to see everything clearly, but once he does he laughs and looks up at me with a giant smile. "This is so fucking cute, Scar."

"Yay!" I exclaim. "Can you tell what they say?"

"Of course," He smiles and pulls me into his lap. "States spelled out in chocolate chips," He points to the left one, "A picture of a football," He says as he moves to the middle one, "And a #1!"

I giggle and lie down across his lap like a baby. I know I am grossly obsessed with him, but I can't help it. God, I have become one of those girls that I always hated.

Paul dumps some syrup onto his plate and then cuts off a piece with the side of his fork. He takes a big bite and then kisses me with his mouth full. I laugh and pull away from him. "Delicious. You're perfect."

I giggle and sit up. I am coming to realize that Paul's complements, no matter what for, always somehow end in me being perfect.

"Try it." He holds out his fork to me and I raise my eyebrows at him.

"I know you are not trying to feed me right now."

He shoves it into my mouth and I nearly choke as I swallow the huge wad of sugary sweetness. "Okay," I sigh. "I am pretty amazing." I pull the fork out of Paul's hand and take another bite as he laughs and kisses my neck.

"You excited for states today?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Only if we win," He huffs, taking a huge bite.

"You'll win," I roll my eyes.

"We better."

I giggle. Well, at least if you lose I decided against passing out Popsicle sticks with your face on it! That is a plus!"

Paul doesn't laugh. "You're coming?"

I turn my head to look at him like he has lost his mind. "Obviously?"

"Really?" His face lights up.

I can't help but grow offended; did he really think that I would miss this? "Yeah," I respond slowly. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You just never mentioned it." He runs a finger through my hair and accidentally gets it sticky with syrup.

I narrow my eyes at him. "I didn't think I had to."

"Okay, okay, just relax," He laughs at me. "I'm happy you're coming."

I cross my arms and huff. "You must think I am just the worst girlfriend in the world."

"My stomach begs to differ."

I huff.

"Scarlett, do I need to take your panties off right on this counter or are you going to get over this?"

My mouth drops. "Paul Lahote!" I blush. "Sex is not always the answer!"

He laughs. "Oh yeah? And how do you know? Are you sleeping with men that I don't know about?"

I roll my eyes. "You're so annoying."

"I believe the word you're looking for is charming," He kisses my nose.

"Or as your mom called it, douche-bagish," I giggle.

He laughs and cups my face, getting more syrup all over me as he kisses me deeply. I sigh into his lips and let him twist the world on its axis for a moment.

When he pulls way I have not nearly had enough, yet.

"Let's go get you cleaned up, shall we?" He has a particularly devilish gleam in his eyes.

I giggle and roll my eyes. "You wish."

"I do," He laughs and kisses me again.

"How about I make you a deal?" I begin playing with his fingers.

Paul's smile drops. "I was kidding, Scarlett."

"I know," I grumble. "I have been… frustrated as of lately in case you haven't noticed." My cheeks turn bright red though Paul just bursts out laughing. I cross my arms overtop of my chest and let a sour expression engulf my face; of course he finds my embarrassment funny- what's new?

"You don't say?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "You won't let me do anything!"

"You tried to take my pants off!" Paul laughs.

"Unsuccessfully, thanks for that by the way!" He laughs boastfully though I sigh angrily. The moment he is referring to was a few days ago when we had been making out on my couch and my hand had slid to the waistband of his jeans. I had blushed so intensely that Paul became worried that I was going to pass out and forced me to drink a cold cup of water as he fanned me.

You would have thought that I tried to rape the guy with his reaction.

"I like you innocent," He speaks sweetly, cupping my face in his hands.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not innocent." I blush, "Not anymore."

"Yes you are," Paul laughs. "It's sexy."

"Call me sexy one more time," I point my finger at him.

"Sexy. Sexy. Sexy. Sexy. Sexy." He blinks at me. "I believe that was five times."

I can't contain my laugh though I try extremely hard.

Paul chuckles and kisses me again. I deepen it immediately. He smiles into my mouth and sucks on my lower lip. I moan.

"I just made you cum last night, baby," He strokes the hair on the sides of my head. I blush a thousand shades of crimson. "Do you want it again?"

I bite the corner of my lip and nod slowly.

Paul smiles devilishly and quickly sets me up on the table. I giggle as he pulls me closer.

"Let's take a shower," I say sweetly.

Paul's eyes sparkle. "Okay."

"Great! Take your clothes off."

"Scarlett," Paul moans. "We've already talked about this."

"No," I reply slowly. "I tried to talk about it and you said no."

"What happened to being comfortable?" He sighs.

"That was like two weeks ago!" I exclaim.

"How could your mind change that completely in two weeks?"

"Easy," I sigh. "You've done the same thing for weeks and weeks. I'm bored."

"Oh you're bored?" Paul's eyes widen and his lips pull up at the corners. "Is that so?" He leans down to kiss the top of my thigh and then rubs the insides of my legs. I bite my lip. Paul pushes them open and then sucks on the inside of my thigh.

I moan.

He laughs and pulls away. "Didn't think so."

I grab a fist-full of his shirt and pull him to me. "I want more."

"Mmm," He kisses me softly and then quickly pulls me into his arms.

"What are you doing?" I ask him as I wrap my arms around his neck. Though I might be slightly sexually frustrated with Paul's refusal to let _anything_ sexual be given back to him in return, I am not upset with him.

The fact that he solely wants to make me feel good is slightly annoying, though I really can't complain. Besides, if I did, in fact, get in his pants, I probably would be way too embarrassed to actually do anything.

"We're taking a shower," He smiles widely at me.

I sigh. "I'm not getting into my swimsuit again."

"Didn't seem to mind it that much last time," He kisses my forehead as my body shakes from remembering how he pulled my bottoms to the side and got on his knees for me. "And you don't have to."

"But you do," I sigh, realizing that I have lost this one.

"There you go." He kisses me again.

I roll my eyes but rest my head on his chest. "Fine," I mumble angrily.

He carries me up to my bathroom and then sets me up on the counter. Paul starts the water and smiles seductively at me as he trails his eyes up and down my body. "Ugh," He moans. "So sexy." He takes a step back from me and then rubs my thighs. "I'll be back."

I sigh.

He even has a pair of swim trunks at my house due to the abundance of clothed shower sessions we have been having as of late.

I love showering with Paul, especially when he insists on washing my hair, but the deal is that we have to remain clothed; well, that _was_ the deal. I am pretty sure he just gave me permission to go fully nude. Actually, I don't think Paul has ever had an issue with me being naked, it's just him that he is set in a firm no way.

I bite the corner of my cheek and turn to look at myself in the mirror. Paul has been pleasing me for weeks now, though he has never seen me fully naked before.

I am not sure why I am so weird about him seeing my chest. Perhaps it is because I have always been so well _endowed_ that it has always kind of been a source of embarrassment for me, or maybe it has some deeper fucked up meaning that I have yet to understand.

I moan and press my forehead to the mirror. "Pull yourself together," I tell myself.

I hop off of the counter and decide to put my big-girl panties on, or rather, _off_. I pull Paul's long tee-shirt overtop of my head and throw it off of the floor. I slip my panties off and kick them to the side, making sure not to look in the mirror as I step into the shower and hold my arms nervously overtop of my chest, concealing myself.

I have my face turned towards the water and my back towards the shower door when I hear it open. I bite the corner of my lip and pretend like I didn't hear.

Paul slips his hands around my back, and then around my stomach. I feel him kiss my shoulder and then smile into me. "You have the best skin," He whispers to me.

I giggle. "I don't even know what that means."

"Mm, exactly what I said." He runs his palms down my bare back and my breath grows unstable. Paul has seen my butt before, but not like this; my panties always came off in preparation for what he was about to do. Now I am just _naked_ in front of him. I feel exposed.

He reaches for my shoulders and then slowly turns me towards him. I keep my forearms tightly pressed into my chest to be sure that he doesn't see anything and nervously look up at him from beneath my lashes.

"What's wrong?" He strokes the back of his finger along my cheek.

I bite the corner of my lip. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" He smiles. "Than let me see you."

I blush.

Paul laughs and then pushes me against him. I keep my arms where they are though as he wraps his around my back. "And you think you're ready to see me naked," He laughs and kisses my cheek.

I want to argue with him, but I really have no basis for a logical case. He is right, like always.

With shaking hands, I suddenly have a desire in me to prove that I can do this, that I am not too embarrassed to be entirely nude around him. I lift my arms up and wrap them around his neck, pressing my breasts into his chest.

I hear the breath catch in Paul's throat and bite the center of my lip to keep from smiling too big.

"Mm, Scarlettt," He moans into my ear.

I feel his hands on my arms and then try to control the panic growing inside of me as he pulls them apart.

"Paul," I complain, quickly turning so that my back is against his chest and then pulling his arms around me.

"Scarlett," He breathes in my neck. "You're perfect. Don't be embarrassed."

"I'm not," I stammer.

"Than turn around."

"Stop pressuring me," I reply.

He laughs. "A minute ago you were yelling at me for going too slow."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "I'm just… no one has… I'm not used to anyone seeing this part of me."

"I would be worried if you were," Paul laughs.

"No," I tell him sternly. "I'm serious. My stomach and my chest and my back too, I'm so used to keeping it hidden. _I_ haven't even seen it in a long time."

Paul's arms tighten around me. "You've never seen yourself naked before?" He asks with astonishment.

It takes me a second to answer. "Well obviously. I mean, I kind of just trained myself not to look. Why would I want to see myself all bruised like that?"

Paul turns me suddenly. His eyes are deep with something I have never seen before; I can't look away. I forget to cover myself as he takes my face between his hands, and slowly brings his mouth to mine. I quiver right before our lips touch, and then… heaven.

I kiss Paul deeply, in a way that makes me forget where I am or who I am or what happened to me. I lose myself in his lips, in the way that he holds my face between his hot hands and the way that his lips feel when they are melting into mine. I fall into his arms and keep my eyes closed even once he pulls away.

Paul holds me to him with one of his arms. I don't have to wonder what he is doing as I stare at darkness beneath my eyelids; I know that he is looking at me.

"This body," Paul speaks finally. I don't dare open my eyes. "No one will ever touch it again."

I open my eyes.

He is staring at my chest.

"Except for me."

I watch as he goes to touch me there, but stops midway, holding his hands in the air as a vein in his neck twitches.

Slowly, I reach for his hands and then bring them towards me. I place them on my breasts and look up at him nervously. "You can," I tell him softly.

Paul gulps and then looks at me. "You're not scared?"

I smile. "Of you? Of course not."

Paul's hands slide down my breasts, his fingers trailing down my nipples as I try to contain a moan. He rests his palms on my hips as he takes me in. I smile and let him.

"You're so soft." I blush. "You're so beautiful, Scarlett," He tells me softly.

I bite my lip. "You think?"

His eyes pop. "Are you insane." He moves his hands off of me and then strokes them down my sides. "You're…," Paul shakes his head as he runs his eyes up and down my body. "Perfect. Just fucking perfect." He squeezes my breasts in his hands and I gasp and then moan.

Paul moans to himself and then gently pushes me back again the wall. "Fuck," I hear him mumble to himself. I try to contain a giggle. "You have the best boobs." He kisses my neck. "They're so big."

I frown. "They're too big."

"Scarlett," Paul chokes on something invisible as he pulls away from me. "Are you serious? You're fucking- like, you do realize women pay for those?"

I press my arms overtop of my chest with a small gasp. "I did not pay for these Lahote!"

"I know that!" He laughs. "I'm just saying they're perfect." He peels my hands off of my chest and then stares where I was just covering as he shakes his head.

"Like proportionally, visibly, entirely perfect. You don't understand."

I roll my eyes. "All I know about my boobs is that I used to get made fun of for them."

Paul's forehead scrunches together. "Okay, you're really going to have to explain that one to me."

"I was one of those girls that… blossomed early."

Paul bursts out laughing.

"It's not funny!" I shove his chest. "This one boy in my class made up this song that went, 'Scarlett the Harlot, Scarlett the Harlot, Scar-let the Har-let!' It was extremely traumatic!"

"Awe," Paul coos between laughs. "They called you a harlot?"

"Yes," I sigh.

"And what age did this extremely traumatizing experience occur?"

"Fifth grade," I mumble.

Paul laughs and runs a hand overtop of my hair. "How did a fifth grader even know what a harlet was?" I chuckle. "So is this a deep-seated issue for you?"

"Yes," I laugh. "By sixth grade I had D boobs. You don't understand how terrible that was for me."

"Well," Paul sighs. "I don't think little Johnny and his friends had any idea what they were making fun of because I can assure you that now they would think much differently."

I shove his chest and roll my eyes. Paul laughs and holds my arms open so that his view isn't obstructed.

"Jesus," He mumbles to himself, his eyes ranking overtop of my chest. "You're so tiny. How do you have boobs like that when you're so tiny?" I laugh nervously. "And they're like… perky."

"Okay!" Paul reaches for my hands but I slap them away. "No. No! No more!" I cross my arms overtop of my chest and then huff angrily. "Jesus Christ you need to… you need to- you need to get a filter or something! You say the creepiest stuff!"

He chuckles. "Creepy? What I say is sexy."

"No," I laugh, shaking my head frantically. "No it's not."

"Oh it's not?" He laughs and pulls me closer to him. We are both still laughing as he connects his mouth with mine.

I sigh and let my mouth disappear into his. He holds me to him and I try to hide how much I love the feeling of my nipples pressing into his bare chest.

Paul kisses a trail from my lips, across my cheek, and then trails it down my neck. He cups the back of my neck with his hand so that he can tilt my head back. I give in easily, arching my back and sucking on that spot that he knows I love.

His hand skims down my spine and then rests at my lower back. I breathe heavily into his lips.

Paul laughs into my mouth and I moan in annoyance. "What?"

"So am I still creepy?"

I roll my eyes. "Always, Lahote." I rest my forehead against his chest and I hear the distinct click of the shampoo bottle. I smile into his skin. This is surely my favorite part, well, aside from the orgasm that usually happens right after this.

I feel Paul's fingers massaging the shampoo into my hair and sigh contently. He kisses my temple and I just have to rest my chin on his chest to smile up at him.

"You are wonderful," I wear a wide, close-mouthed smile on my content face.

"Well thank you baby," He murmurs as he kisses me softly. "Tilt your head back for me, love."

I sigh and do as I am told. Just the silent promise of Paul running his fingers through my hair and massaging my head is enough to send a shrill down my spine.

"What time is Nessie picking you up?"

"Hm?"

"For the game."

"Oh, she's not," I sigh. "I'm going with your mom."

His fingers stop moving.

"Paul," I complain. "Don't stop."

I hear him gently laugh as he continues. "Really? When did that happen?" He pushes.

"I don't know. She called me last week to check in and I mentioned the game and she suggested we go together and I agreed."

"With Nessie?" Paul asks after a moment.

"Paul Lahote!" I pick my head up and narrow my eyes at him. "Is there a reason why you don't want me alone with your mother?"

His eyes bulge. "Wh- no! Not at all! I love that you're hanging out with my mom! It's just, neither of you drive."

I blink a few times. "What?" It is hard not to keep the humor out of my tone.

"Yeah," Paul kisses my temple, " She has always been freaked out at driving, but since she has gotten older these last few years she refuses to travel longer than 30 miles or so at a time."

"Okay," I laugh. "That's great, but what is this about _me_ not being able to drive?"

Paul scrunches his eyebrows at me. His green eyes seem confused. "I just thought-,"

"What?" I roll my eyes and giggle at the same time. "You just thought that because I don't have a car I don't know how to drive?" He smiles guiltily. "I needed to be able to drive, Paul; it gave me a way to be away from my house." I look towards the shower floor, staring at his toes.

Paul's finger presses up beneath my chin and pushes it up. He has a small, reassuring smile on his face. "Please don't be embarrassed," He kisses my nose. "I understand."

"No you don't."

Paul appears taken aback, his eyes flashing a mask of hurt across the surface before they revert back to the way they were before.

"I don't mean to be mean," I say, softening my voice ever-so slightly. "It's just, you'll never be able to understand, as much as you want to. Just- I love you for trying, I do, but please don't ever say that you understand. Please?"

Paul takes my face between his hands and tilts his face close to mine. "Okay," He says, running his hands along the sides of my hair and resting his forehead against my own. "Okay." I close my eyes and take a deep breath of him; the smell of the shampoo and steam and Paul are making my head spin.

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice high and weak.

"Don't be sorry," He whispers back.

"Don't tell me what to do." My lips pull up at the corners and I feel the smile of his own as he kisses me gently.

My phone vibrates on the counter but I press my lips closer to his. I close my eyes and let myself get lost in his touch. Paul cups my cheek in his hand and slips his tongue into my mouth; I moan.

It goes silent and he presses me up against the wall. His hands trail from my face down to my chest as he gently rubs my nipples with his thumbs. I bite my lip and moan.

My phone goes off again, though we both ignore it once more.

Paul sucks on my neck and then kisses a tender path towards my chest. I am actually shaking as I wrap my arms loosely around his neck. He cups my breast in his hand and sucks on my nipple.

I throw my head back as my mouth drops.

"Jesus- God," I breathe out in ecstasy. Who knew that this would feel _this incredible_? It is a different type of feeling than when he kisses me between my legs, entirely new but entirely jaw-dropping. It is making the heat between my thighs unbearable, the tremble of my knees nearly causing me to crumble. It is turning me on like nothing I have ever experienced before.

Paul flicks his tongue against the sensitive spot and I gasp. "Paul," I moan as my breaths come out quick and sharp.

I am in heaven.

My phone buzzes for a third time, or maybe it is a forth time, or maybe a fifth or a sixth, I don't even know anymore.

Paul pulls away but I panic and grasp his hands tightly. "No, no." I am breathing so fast.

That is all he needs to hear.

Paul sucks on my other nipple and rubs the other one at the same time. I moan loudly and nearly pass out. Paul lowers himself onto his knees and then presses my thighs open.

"Fuck, Scarlett," He says as he kisses my gently. "You're so wet." He kisses the sides of my thighs and then gently runs his nails up my sides. "I've never seen you this wet before."

"Mmm," I am barely able to keep myself standing.

"Scarlett?"

I hear my voice called out in the distance and am so stuck in a trance that I actually decide that I must be dreaming. It isn't until I hear my name called again, lively and clear, that I gasp and jump up.

"Scarlett? Honey? It's Mrs. Lahote! I tried to call you but you weren't answering. The door was unlocked!"

"Oh my God!" I exclaim, shoving him off of me in a full fledged, entire and debilitating panic. "That's your mom!" I whisper yell.

Paul has yet to get up off of the ground, though his eyes are wide, wider than I have ever seen them. He isn't moving, either; I think he may be in shock.

"Paul!" I push, my mouth dropping in panic.

"Scarlett?" She calls again.

"Paul!" I exclaim. "What is your mother doing here?"

Still no response.

"Paul!" I shake his shoulders and that finally seems to pull him out of his frozen stupor.

"Ugh," He gets to his feet and then scratches his head. "Ugh."

"What is your mother doing here?" I ask again.

"I don't know!" He whispers back. "You're the one who made plans with her today!"

"Not this early!" I exclaim.

"God, Scarlett," Paul rubs his face. "If you tell the lady a specific time she is for sure going to be there at least two hours early with food. It's like a scientific law with her."

"Oh," I pretend to laugh, though I am much too freaked out to do that. "Is there a reason you didn't think to mention this, I don't know, _before_?"

"I forgot!" He exclaims.

I smack his arm and he grabs his head in his hands. "Paul! Your mother is in my house and I am in the shower with you!" My mouth drops. "I'm naked!"

"Oh, fuck, okay. Okay." Paul begins nodding his head furiously. "Okay. Okay, okay. Okay! This is okay!"

"How is any of this okay?" I blurt.

"I'm going to get out first. I'm going to make a break for it to the guest bathroom and come out pretending like I just showered in there and that I'm surprised to see her and then when she asks where you are I'll say I think you're getting ready in your room."

I open my mouth to protest but then close it. "You know what, that's actually not a terrible plan, Lahote." He smiles. "Now shut up and get out of my shower!" I push him out and he stumbles a little bit but grabs a towel.

I wince as he cracks the door open and peaks an eye out. Oh so slowly, Paul pushes his whole head out and looks side to side. Just when I am about to ask if the coast is clear, he sprints out of the room so fast that I barely notice him close the door behind him.

Jesus Christ.

Welcome to relationship life, Scarlett.

I emerge into the kitchen about twenty minutes later with freshly curled hair and an arm full of supplies.

"Scarlett!" Mrs. Lahote pops up from her spot at the table where Paul is eating and rushes over to hug me. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to just barge in here like that."

Paul scoffs. "Sure you did!"

"Oh, shush." She rolls her eyes at Paul. "She's practically my daughter-in-law."

My eyes widen.

Paul clears his throat. "Not quite, mom."

"It's okay," I laugh. "I'm sorry I was just running a little late."

I see Paul silently laugh out of the corner of my eye and blush. "Oh, I got us lots of stuff." I dump the contents of our spirit wear onto the counter and she gasps.

"My word. This is going to be fun!" Mrs. Lahote grabs my arm and squeezes and I giggle.

"Jesus, Scar," Paul laughs as he stands up. "You rob the school store or what?"

I roll my eyes. "This is _half_ of what Nessie owns.

Paul loops his arm around my back and kisses my forehead. "You look beautiful. I like the hair."

I smile. "I'm going to put a red bow in it."

Paul raises his eyebrows at me and waits until his mom turns around to take a look at the spirit wear to whisper into my ear. "Sexy." He nibbles on my neck and

I giggle and pull away.

"Your mom and I are hell-belt on embarrassing you, Pauley," I smile and kiss him gently on the cheek.

"Hell-bent is right!" Mrs. Lahote pulls two spirit fingers out of her purse and points one in Paul's face.

I laugh.

"You two are the same person," He shakes his head at her. "You're just like Scarlett, mother. A child."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah cause you're _so_ mature."

Mrs. Lahote giggles and I bite the center of my lip.

"When do you have to go, honey?" Mrs. Lahote asks him.

Paul looks at his phone. "Now."

I moan and wrap my arms around his stomach. " _Nooooo._ "

He laughs. "If I don't go I can't kick some ass!" He rubs my back.

"Paul Lahote, you watch your mouth now!" She scolds him. My mouth drops; does she not understand how often Paul cusses? She should have heard him in the shower. I blush at the thought.

"Wish me luck," He says softly to me as he pulls me in for a kiss. I know that his mom is in the room, but I can't help myself from falling into him. I take a deep breath and then begrudgingly pull away from him.

"Good luck," I smile sweetly. "Though you don't need it. You're going to do great. Yell a lot and win, got it?"

He laughs and hugs me, kissing my shoulder gently.

"Be careful driving, okay?"

I smile at his worry. "Fine."

"I'm serious." His grip tightens around me.

"Paul," I laugh. "I'll be careful. _You_ be careful! Watch out for footballs to the head!" He rolls his eyes and kisses me quickly one last time.

"See ya, mom." Paul hugs her quickly and then heads out; he has to stop by his apartment first for all of his things before the game.

I watch him go with an intense longing that is utterly ridiculous.

Mrs. Lahote places her hand on my shoulder and I turn towards her, suddenly embarrassed.

She smiles at me. "He really loves you, you know that?" I blush, quite surprised by her telling me this. "It's beautiful to see."

I smile and place a piece of hair behind my ear.

"And you love him too?" Mrs. Lahote softens her voice and asks this as a question, though when I look over at her she has a knowing smile on her face.

I bite the corner of my lip to try to contain the wide smile that engulfs my face. I giggle and shake my head towards the ground.

"Oh, honey!" Mrs. Lahote clasps her hands on my shoulders and kisses my cheek. My eyes widen at the sudden action. "I just love you! I'm so happy he found you!"

I smile though I have to admit that Paul's mom telling me that she loves me so easily is definitely making my head spin. I've never been told that by a "parent" before.

"Oo!" Mrs. Lahote holds up the tube of red lipstick to her face. "Should I?"

I burst out laughing. "Definitely!"

* * *

After a three hour car ride, Mrs. Lahote and I find our seats in the stands, front row of course. We both tied a big, red bow into our hair (leftovers from my cheerleading days), and have on red lipstick with a red, paw stamp on our cheeks. I have on ripped jeans with a Res Sweatshirt and red gloves. Mrs. Lahote adorns the same thing, though her jeans are not ripped.

I immediately begin scanning my eyes along the field, searching for Paul.

"Do you see him?" Mrs. Lahote asks, clasping my hand and then leaning into me to look the same direction.

I don't answer. It isn't until my eyes lock on familiar tan skin and broad, muscular shoulders that I breathe a breath of relief.

I point out at him for his mom to see.

Paul is throwing the football with the QB, warming him up.

I sigh contently. He is so freaking attractive.

As the warm up clock winds down and the game is about to begin, I find a surprising nervousness settle into the pit of my stomach. Paul has worked so hard on his offense, and he told me that if they win he would probably get looked at for possible head coach positions. I bite the corner of my nail and take a deep breath.

As the captains line up to take the field, I notice Paul turn towards the crowd and scan the stands. His eye catches on mine and he smiles widely. I laugh and then quickly reach for the foam finger, holding it up with a wide smile as Paul laughs. He shakes his head at me but then mouths', "I love you."

My entire body feels warmer than a few seconds ago as I smile and just barely mouth it back.

He turns back towards the game and I giggle to myself. Mrs. Lahote doesn't say anything, but from the smile on her face I am guessing that she heard. I look around at the other fans in the stands, sure that they couldn't have missed that considering it practically made me combust, only, no one else seems to have noticed. The only eyes that I do catch, are narrowed at me with thick eyeliner surrounding them.

Mallory Reynolds, the same Mallory Reynolds that Paul used to hook up with and the very girl that poured water on my head the first day of school, is glaring at me. I roll my eyes and look back towards the game. I force away the thought of Paul sleeping with her and take a deep breath.

He loves _me_. He has told me this a thousand times. I am having a great time with his mom, I don't want to be insecure right now.

"What was that?" Mrs. Lahote asks. Of course she caught it.

"Oh nothing," I roll my eyes and brush it off. "Just some girl Paul used to have a thing with."

She purses her lips and narrows her eyes at Mallory. My eyes widen in completely shock as she sweetly waves at her. Mallory looks away quickly.

"What are you doing?" I whisper.

"Showing her that you've got no competition! She looks like a bitch, anyways."

My mouth drops. "Mrs. Lahote!" I gasp.

She rolls her eyes. "Scarlett, I was a cheerleader who got pregnant at sixteen. I know how to handle girls like that."

I burst into laughter and blush; I can't help it! I had no idea that she had Paul when she was a teenager.

"I was a cheerleader at my old school," I say. "She's really not bothering me. It's different with Paul and me; I can't expect her to understand. Also, I really don't want to because I don't care."

We both laugh loudly together and Paul turns with a wide smile on his face to quickly look at up before turning back to the game.

"I think we're distracting him."

"It's probably my good looks," Mrs. Lahote smiles sarcastically.

I giggle. "For sure."

I must say, as the game goes on, Mrs. Lahote is a serious riot! She even starts some chants, which embarrasses me, obviously, but everyone actually chants along, so props to her!

What surprises me the most, though, is how into the game I am getting. By half-time my throat hurts from cheering and I definitely need to give my feet a break and sit down.

"Well," Mrs. Lahote pats my thigh. "I am going to go grab us some hot chocolate. Would you like anything else, sweetie?"

"Oh no, I'm okay." I smile. "Thank you; you don't have to!"

"Oh hush," She shushes me. "Here." She wraps the red blanket she brought around my shoulders. "Put this on. You're going to catch a cold."

"Thank you," I chuckle.

I watch as she walks away. I sigh to contently to myself and then pull out my phone. I text Nessie to ask where she is; she arrived halfway into the first half and we just decided that she would find her own seat until halftime so that it wouldn't be so hectic.

I text her to come down to the third row, three columns over, and then do a quick scan, searching for her.

"Hey Scarlett."

I hear my name called though it takes me a moment to put a face to the voice. "Oh, hey Blake!" I wave and mentally laugh to myself; this is the same Blake that Paul practically threatened when we had to work together for a group project.

"You here for Paul?" He smiles.

At first when everyone found out that I was "dating" Paul, the jokes were numerous; girls hated me and guys honestly thought I was easy, which wasn't fun, then there were a big bunch that just felt pity for me too. After some time passed, though, and it was evident that this relationship was different, most people were surprisingly nice about it; if anything it kind of elevated my status to cool.

On the contrary, there are a select few girls that view Paul treating me differently as a direct attack on them and hate me with a burning passion of hell; Mallory is a prime example.

"Oh come on!" I laugh. "It's states! I'm not here _just_ for Paul."

He laughs. "You coming to the after-party tonight?"

"I think we might stop by but Paul kind of wanted to do our own thing tonight." I smile.

Matt shakes his head. "What have you done to that man?"

I laugh and roll my eyes. "I've ruined him!"

"Scarlett!" One of Blake's friends, and a mutual friend of mine, blows some horn into my face and I wince away. "Wooooooo!"

"Okay," I laugh. He is obviously intoxicated.

"Scarlett!" I am so happy that the voice calling my name this time is one that I am familiar with.

"Nessie!" I pop up and wrap my beautiful best friend in a hug, breathing in her ridiculously amazingly smelling strawberry shampoo; seriously, any time I sleep over there I shower multiple times just to be a able to use it.

"Hey Jake!" I hug him next and then wave at Quil, a little girl that I am slightly confused about but must be Quil's little sister and Seth; Jared and Kim aren't here because Kim has her own game tonight and Jared went to support her for that. When I get to Embry, he is the one to wrap his arm around me and hug me.

"Hey Embry," I smile to myself and rest my cheek against his shoulder. I would never tell Paul this, because I know he would take it the entirely wrong way, but something about being around Embry, it makes me feel content.

"Hey Scar," Embry smiles and takes a seat next to me.

"Sit!" I tell the rest of them. "We saved you a seat!"

"Where's Paul's mom?" Jacob asks, kissing Nessie quickly on the lips.

"Ugh, she went to get hot chocolate a second ago but I really haven't seen h-," I stop mid-sentence as I spot her near the concession stands. She has two cups of hot chocolate in her hands, though that is not what is making my jaw hit the floor. She is talking to a girl… but not just any girl… Mallory. And from the looks of it, she is not being very nice.

Mallory's eyes are wide and her mouth is dropped. Mrs. Lahote has her finger pointed at her and is smiling in that sarcastic way that makes me imagine her as a sixteen year old mean year- I can finally see it.

"Oh my God," I breathe.

"What?" Nessie breaks from kissing Jacob to ask.

I point over at where Mrs. Lahote is laying into Mallory and Nessie bursts into laughter.

"Go Mrs. Lahote!" She yells out. I smash my hand to her mouth and hug her tightly.

"Shut up!" I laugh.

She giggles and easily untangles herself from me. She is a surprisingly strong little thing.

"Good! She should. That girl's a bitch."

I giggle. "Be nice."

"Is that girl still bothering you?" Embry asks, leaning forward.

"Not really," I sigh. "I really don't get too bothered by verbal assaults by seventeen year old girls. Not my fear." I laugh to myself at my very own inside joke. Embry's face falls. He looks towards the ground and I look at him confusedly.

"You okay, Emb?"

He looks up and smiles. "Of course." He wraps his arm around my shoulder and rubs the top of my back. "Your idiot's doing great tonight."

I giggle. "Offense is looking dominant tonight, I must admit."

"Oh hi!" Mrs. Lahote places her hand to her heart as she joins the rest of us on the bleachers. "Oh my word I haven't seen some of you in too, too long! Oh Claire! Come here honey!" Mrs. Lahote hugs her and kisses all over her face.

"Claire?" I can't help but ask.

 _This_ is Claire?

I suddenly blush; I see why it was so awkward when I had asked if Quil was dating her; only, why hadn't they just explained that she was his little sister? They were so weird about it.

"Here honey," Mrs. Lahote hands me the hot chocolate.

"Thank you!" I exclaim.

I attempt to take a sip but it is so hot; I pull it away with a gasp. "Ouch!" I press my finger to my lip that is slightly burnt.

"You want some, Embry?" I hold it out for him. "It's too hot for me but you're all like 800 degrees, so."

He laughs and takes a sip. "Thanks Scar."

I smile. "Jake, I'd offer you some but I don't feel like drinking Nessie's saliva right now."

"Shhhh," Quil covers Claire's ears and I giggle.

"Hey!" I ask Mrs. Lahote, leaning towards her. "What did you say to Mallory?"

"Who?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "You can't get away with this one," I giggle. "I saw you!"

"Yeah we all did!" Nessie pops up. "You were _laying_ into her!"

"Go Mrs. Lahote!" Jacob gives her a high-five.

She laughs. "I didn't say anything, really. I just told her to leave you alone or she's going to have a lot more to deal with than those terrible hair extensions."

My mouth drops. "Oh my God!"

Mrs. Lahote is seriously bad-ass. Who knew that behind all the pet-names and exuberant, sweet personality was this?

"That is amazing!" Nessie laughs and rests her head on my shoulder.

Before I have a chance to push for more details, I hear the band beginning to play, and the team emerges from the locker room. We all stand in unison and start cheering excitedly.

I think I may be the only one who notices when Paul's eyes dart right to me for a split second, almost like he couldn't help himself.

* * *

After the game my throat hurts and my eyes are heavy and I need a shower… but it was worth it.

It was a hard fought victory, and it meant everything at the end seeing Paul so excited. He even got the cooler of Gatorade dumped onto him! To say I got use out of that foam finger would be an understatement.

Mrs. Lahote just left; I dropped her off at her house because she was too tired to drive home and she will just have Paul bring her car by later. I must admit, I feel as though Paul's mom and I really bonded today, but not in a forced team-bonding sort of way that my sport's days are used to, in a genuine, real, relaxed and natural bonding sort of way.

I knew Mrs. Lahote gave a lot of qualities to Paul, but today I realized just how many. Mrs. Lahote is sweet, but she has a sassy, cocky side to her as well that is practically a book for how Paul is. I still don't know what she ever said to Mallory, but during the game when I had accidentally made eye contact with her, she quickly looked away, so it must have worked.

Honestly, all I want to do is celebrate with Paul. Nessie called about a celebratory bonfire over at Jake's instead of the official after party, and I had to stop myself from quickly accepting because I wanted to talk to Paul first, though I doubt he would have a problem with that.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I smile immediately.

"Lahote."

I gasp and pull the phone away from my face as I hear multiple, male screams on the other end of the line. I hop out of Mrs. Lahote's car and towards my house.

"Ugh, hello?" I laugh.

"Scarlett!" Paul screams.

"Jeesh!" I pull the phone away from my face. "Are you trying to break my ear-drums?"

"I'm sorry!" He screams just as loud. I cringe. "Hang on a second!"

There is as ruffling noise and then I finally hear him clearly. "I'm sorry baby; they're acting like bafoons right now."

"Well rightly so!" I laugh. "You won!"

"I know!"

"You did so amazing! Don't think I missed that call at the end; risky going for the touchdown for the win but obviously you knew exactly what you were doing."

Paul laughs. "Oh baby." He sighs. "I love you. You're amazing. You looked so hot tonight."

I giggle. "Really?"

"Yes," He moans. "The red lipstick. And that bow! What are you trying to do to me?"

"Hopefully I didn't distract you too much," I bite the corner of my lip, the distance of the phone making me brave. "I believe we have something we need to finish tonight."

"Oh, honey," He sighs again.

"Oh," I interrupt him before he can continue. "Jacob's having a bonfire over at his place. Do you want to do that as our after-party? I can't wait to celebrate with you!"

"Babe," Paul's voice sounds strained. "I would love to, I really, really would, but it started raining pretty good out here about an hour ago. We thought we would wait for it to stop to head back but it hasn't yet, so at this point since it's so late we're thinking we should just get a couple rooms down here."

"Oh," I can't help but let my voice fall. "W-well that's okay!"

Paul doesn't buy it. "I'm so fucking sorry Scarlett. I know you were excited for tonight. Please go. Please, please, please go! You'll have fun!"

I smile. "Okay."

"You'll go?" He seems much happier.

"Yes Paul," I laugh. "Although I do find it a little hard to believe that all your crazy little football players are going to miss out on an after party after winning states."

"Well they're going to have to," He huffs. "I told them to just celebrate tomorrow. Hell, they could start drinking on the fucking bus tomorrow morning for all I care! If we're going to pay for this damn hotel room than they better keep their shit together."

I giggle. "You do realize that they're 100% going to go completely nuts tonight."

He laughs. "Yes. I can't blame them."

"You should have some fun, too," I say gently. "I don't mind, Paul."

It takes him a moment to respond. "Just a beer or two? Would it bother you? If it does I won't, Scar. It'll just be us guys. I'm not trying to get drunk, just celebrate."

"Of course!" I laugh. "Paul, I trust you, okay? And the only reason I freaked out at that bonfire wasn't because of the alcohol, well, I mean you did get a little handsy, but it was more about _what_ you were drinking."

His voice softens. "Really, honey?"

"Yes," I sigh. "Please, have fun! I'll actually be mad if you don't!"

He laughs. "Okay. I won't go crazy, don't worry."

"I'm really not worried Paul," I sigh as I go to sit on the step. For some reason, I feel the urge to sit outside for a while. "I miss you."

Paul moans. "I miss you too, baby."

"I'm so happy for you," I smile. "Seriously. That was so fun to watch!"

"I'm glad you had fun," He says through the line. "How was my mom?"

"Hysterical!" I laugh. "I l-l- she's great!" I say when I can't quite say the L word; hey, baby steps! "And Nessie and Embry and everyone came to sit next to us after half-time; _that_ was super fun! Has anyone ever told you that you are super cute with a headset on?"

Paul laughs. "No I don't think so, but the only complements that I give a shit are the ones from you."

I smile widely. "You're smooth, Lahote."

He laughs. "Ugh, I just wish I could celebrate with _you_ tonight."

I sigh. "Me too. It's depressing how bummed I am." I sigh again. "You know what, once I get to my bonfire and you get to the hotel we'll have fun. You'll forget to miss me."

"Scarlett," Paul laughs. "That's impossible. All I do is think about you."

I close my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, baby girl."

I smile.

I hear voices on the line and wait a second as Paul's muffled voice responds.

"Hey, Scar?" He comes back on the line. "We're about to head to the hotel, baby. Is it okay if I let you go? I'm sorry; I can call and talk to you after we get there."

"Paul," I laugh. "Please don't worry about me! Have fun tonight. Maybe I'll see if I can have a sleepover with Nessie."

"Really?" His mood seems to pick up almost instantly.

"Yeah! Hey, you never know, maybe we'll surprise each other and I'll be the one getting blacked out and you'll be stone cold sober!"

Paul doesn't laugh. "That's really dangerous, Scarlett, especially if you haven't ever drank before. If you're goi-,"

"Paul!" I laugh, cutting him off. "I'm kidding! I don't drink, remember? And even if I randomly decided to, do you honestly think any of your friends would let something like that happen?"

Paul sighs in relief. "You're ri- I'm coming!" He yells so loud to someone else that I hear it echo through my head. "Hey babe, I've gotta go. Can I call you later? I want to talk to you more."

I smile. "Of course. Go! Drive safe, okay?"

"I love you." His deep voice echoes through the line and I have to take a deep breath to myself.

"I love you too."

The line clicks off and I smile with my eyes still closed. I open them and blink my eyelashes up at the moon. I can't help but feel slightly bummed out that Paul isn't coming home tonight, but I know that I will have fun with Nessie and the rest of the… pack. I giggle at referring to them as a pack.

Hey, maybe I could convince Embry to shift into a werewolf for me; he already has once before!

I start a new text to Nessie. _Paul has to stay overnight because of the storm that came in… but I'm still coming!_ I insert the devil emoji and giggle to myself. _Sleepover?_

Her response is almost instant. _YES!_

I laugh and stand up.

I should at least go take a hot shower.

I unlock the front door and sigh to myself, running my fingers through the ends of my hair. I could probably stop by the store on the way over to pick up some S'mores materials, yeah, that would be nice!

I close the door behind me and go to head up to my room.

This face stamp has hardened on my skin. All I want to do is wash my fa-

I scream out in pain and go flying onto the floor.

My mouth drops as the sudden pain shocks me to the core. My cheek stings and my eyes are watering; I haven't been hit like that in so long.

I wasn't expecting it.

I know who it is without even having to ask.

The only problem is that I am not prepared; I have gone too long feeling protected and re-learning how _not_ to expect pain, that I can't handle whatever more is to come.

I wince as I slowly pull myself to my feet. I place my hand on my already swollen cheek and take a deep breath.

The moon streaming through the front door illuminates his features.

My bones turn to ice.

"That's what you get for making me wait."

I gulp.

* * *

AHHHHHHH okay... who was expecting that!? I hope I shocked you! Please let me know what you thought!

I know I kind of left you on a cliff-hanger, so I am so sorry! Review, review, review because it makes me happy and usually winds up in me staying up all night to finish a chapter to post for you! xoxo


	23. 6,000

Alright guys. HERE IT IS! Thanks for all the amazing reviews and I am so, so, so sorry for last chapter's cliffhanger- hopefully this update makes up for it!

This chapter switches between Scarlett and Paul's POV because it works best that way—hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

It isn't like you see in movies.

My heartbeat isn't so loud it is like background music, and my eyes aren't wide, scanning the room frantically for a place to run and there isn't suspense or tension or fear.

I am numb.

It is surprising how easily I slip back into this state that I clawed my way out of with Paul by my side.

Paul.

I force down the memories and let my joints tense into place. I can't think about him right now.

"Where have you been, Scarlett?" My step-father pulls up the tops of his black pants and then sits down in a chair at the kitchen table. I stare at the movement; how I haven't forgotten a single detail about him.

My brain controls my body without me even having to try. Show no emotions. No facial expressions. No fear or anger or sadness or sass. Show nothing.

I blink.

"Are you mute now too?" He asks, casually clasping his hands together in his lap as he leans forward. Paul has done that same thing, though it looks much, much different. "Mute and stupid," He sighs.

I blink. "A football game." The insult rolls right off of me like water.

"A football game," He laughs. "Are you still doing that cheerleading?" He twists his wedding band around and around in his fingers. I stare at it; it seems too delicate a move opposed to what I know those hands are capable of.

"No."

"Come sit," He pats the seat next to him and I stare, unwavering, at the cushion, my mind replaying him slapping it over and over and over again.

I don't move.

"What are you so scared of?" He laughs. I cringe on instinct; that laugh is a precursor, a warning. "Am I not allowed to come visit my daughter?"

I swallow down bile.

 _Step-_ daughter.

He stands with a long sigh and then confidently walks towards me. His eyes are the same brown ones that makes my heart fall into my stomach.

Don't react.

Don't react.

Don't _feel_.

He stops in front of me and my jaw hurts from tensing it so tightly. I can't tell what he is thinking; I can't tell when he is going to hurt me, or where or why or for how long.

 _Be ready,_ I remind myself.

Don't feel.

He raises his hand and I wince. He holds his hand in the air and I gulp and take a silent, deadly, steadying breath. He laughs. "Why are you so scared? Do you not like how I hit you when you walked in?"

He trails his fingers down the side of my face and I make an incomprehensible sound in the back of my throat. My hair stands up on my arms.

Silence.

"Who's the red lipstick for?" He asks, his voice suddenly cutting. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood.

No.

No.

No.

Suddenly, he roughly grabs the back of my neck and pushes me forward. I clasp my mouth shut, though a sound of pain slips between my closed lips. He takes his entire palm and roughly smashes it to my mouth.

I gasp and jump back, though his hand holding my neck keeps me from getting anywhere. Tears condense in the corners of my eyes as he violently scrapes my face, smashing into my nose with his ring but not seeming to mind.

He pulls his hand away and I gasp and take a breath.

 _Do not cry._

 _Do not cry._

"You leave and you become a slut, Scarlett." He laughs and throws me back. I smash into the side table behind me. A stabbing pain radiates throughout my lower back as I reach behind me and scramble to grasp the table, managing to stay upright. I hear a crash and cringe as a vase shatters all over the floor.

I take a deep breath and stand up straight.

I can handle this.

"You know you're not allowed to wear that kind of lipstick," He rubs his jaw and looks me up and down. "Boys might get the wrong impression."

My jaw tenses.

Something about his tone and the way that his eyes are trailing over my body makes my heart stop and my veins turn ice cold. I blink multiple times in a row, sure that I am having a nightmare.

In a blink and you'll miss it moment, he slaps me across the face, hard. I feel the cut in my lip before even having to feel for it. I swallow down the stinging pain setting fire to my skin and raise my hand to my lip. I pull it back and see bright red.

He suddenly grasps my hand tightly and pulls it towards him. He twists it to the side, a move that he surely learned in training, and holds it up to his face.

My mouth drops as I dig my fingernails into my palm. Fuck. _Fuck!_

"Stop," I slip, my protective instincts kicking in without permission from my brain.

"What the fuck is this?" He asks, his voice eerily calm.

He grabs my jaw tightly between his fingers and then throws me back. My head bounces against the wall and I gasp in pain. I blink my eyes tightly together a few times for the spotting in my vision to disappear.

He roughly pulls the ring Paul gave me off of my finger and then slowly slides it onto his pinkie. It looks wrong, and I have a surprising, severe desire in me to snatch it off of him; _Paul_ gave me that. Someone so evil doesn't deserve to touch something that is the opposite of that.

He laughs down at his hand and before I even have a chance to try to pull away, he punches me in the jaw.

I stumble to the side, my head hurting and my jaw screaming and my lip gushing blood. The ring cut me, but the force debilitated me. I am spinning.

He reaches for my hair and I cry out in pain; I can't help it. He pulls me back, sending me flying to the other side of the room and landing in the pile of broken glass from earlier.

I gasp and whimper in pain as I try to roll over, only getting more glass digging into my skin. I moan and finally manage to stand up. My hands are shaking and my head is spinning as I pull out a shard of glass from my shoulder and stumble unsteadily back.

My back suddenly reaches something firm though I am too far gone to figure out what. It isn't until I feel his hands digging into my waist that I realize. He pushes me forward and I catch myself on the kitchen table. He spins me and grabs a fist-full of my hair, pulling it down violently and forcing me to look up at him.

"What? You don't want to be daddy's little girl anymore?" He runs his hand down the side of my face and I jolt away. He back-hand slaps me across the eye for that one.

I scream.

Hell.

That one hurt.

"Are you still a virgin?" He asks, his voice even and low.

My head shoots up and my heart rate increases in the form of an earth-shattering boom. That woke me up.

"What?" I breathe, completely blown away by his question. He has _never_ asked me something like that before. Certainly he has called me a slut before, a whore too, but those were just insults; he insulted me any way that he could, so that just made sense. But this… this is different.

"Did he fuck your brain right out of you too?"

I gasp. "No," I stammer. "Wh-What are you talking about?"

"Shut up." He clasps his hand overtop of my mouth and I struggle to get away from him, even though I know that struggling will only make it worse; I can't help it. _I can't breathe._

"I can't have my daughter being a whore." He reaches for the bottom of my shirt as my screams are muffled by his disgusting, sweaty hand.

No.

NO.

No. No. No. No. No.

He can hurt me. He can hit me and kick me and punch me and I will survive it; but _this._ He can't do this.

He takes his hand out from underneath my sweatshirt and then forcefully grabs a fist-full of my collar. He takes his hand off of my mouth only to rip it right down the center. I yelp at the sound of the fabric tearing.

He punches me in the gut.

I gasp, my mouth hanging open as I wait for my brain to remember how to breathe. I realize that he knocked the air out of me as he rips the tip of my shirt, all the way down to my stomach so that my bra is clearly visible.

"No!" I whimper.

He smashes his hand to my mouth as I frantically try to break free of him.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

"Now let daddy check," He speaks, his voice rough and his breathing heavy.

I vomit but am forced to swallow it back down.

Please no.

No.

The thought of him hurting me in _that_ way terrifies me beyond the bounds of rational explanation. It makes my entire body scream in protest, every vein and every blood vessel and every cell fighting as hard as it can because I swear to God I do _not_ want this. I am terrified.

I have never been this terrified.

I feel him unbuckle the clasp of my jeans and I suddenly feel a wave of adrenaline surge through my veins at a speed of 100 miles an hour.

I bite his hand and don't let go until he screams and pulls it off of me. "No!" I scream so loud it echoes off of the walls. I use all the strength in my entire body to push him off of me. He falls back, his eyes wide with surprise as he winces and stares down at his hand that is dripping red with blood. He cut himself on the glass.

I stammer up and sprint towards the kitchen… towards the back-door.

He manages to catch my foot and I crash to the ground. My chin hits the hardwood floor with a gasp and I cry out in pure agony. He flips me over and punches me… three times, in the stomach.

I dry heave.

It's too much.

All I can feel is pain. So much pain that it is difficult to actually force my brain to work.

"Bitch!" He screams and crushes his fist into my leg. I hear a crack and I scream. My voice ricochets off of the ceiling and comes back to haunt me, the sound echoing in my ears.

His hands find my neck and suddenly I can't breathe. My eyes pop and my panic surges to the center of my brain and screams, aches, _begs_ at me to breathe, but I can't. He is choking me. I claw at his hands to no avail. My vision is blurry, but the look in his eyes is something that I can't explain, even if I wanted to. He looks possessed, evil, crazed.

Oh my God.

He is going to kill me.

In all my years of abuse I have never thought this. He has spent hours torturing me but never like this. He always knew the limit; even when I was convincing myself that I would combust with one more poke and I couldn't handle anything more, _he_ always knew. He would stop right as I was on the brink so that I didn't actually fall off.

Now, he doesn't seem to care anymore.

I slap my hand against the ground.

I can't breathe.

I can't breathe.

I can't breathe.

 _Don't panic._

I reach my hand out, not expecting to find anything but knowing that if I don't… I _will_ die. My fingers barely register the glass that slices through my fingers; I suddenly act purely on survival.

I ball my hand into a fist and then stab it onto the ground. I feel a thousand tiny, little knives slice open my hand as I bring it up, and use the little ounce of strength left in my suffocating body to smash it against his neck.

He gasps as his eyes grow wide. He pulls his hands off of my neck to hold them up to his own. The red encompasses my vision as I cough up blood.

My throat hurts.

I am gasping in breath faster than I can process it.

I am so dizzy I just want to give in.

 _No._

 _Not yet._

I turn onto my stomach and crawl away from him, still coughing and dry-heaving.

I have never been in this much pain in my entire life.

His hands dig into my injured leg and I scream and react. I kick him with my good leg, not even knowing where my foot connects with but feeling a sudden, surprising wash of relief flow through my veins as I scramble to my feet and stumble away from him.

I am smashing into the walls, hurting myself more though I could care less. My one thought is to get away from him; where? Anywhere.

I pull the door open to the first-floor bathroom and stumble inside. I close the door and with trembling fingers, I somehow manage lock it just as I hear the lock turn on the other side. There is a ringing in my ears and spotting in my eyes and a fire burning in my throat.

 _Not yet._

I grasp the counter with the sink and try to push it. I hear it groan against the floor and small speckles of hope spring into my mind. I fall so many times I lose count, but eventually, I am able to push the heavy counter in front of the door, as the banging on the other side is dulled just a little bit.

It is as if my body realizes that it can finally shut off, and it stops fighting.

I fall to the ground with a thud and barely even feel myself hit the ground.

The ringing in my ears are bells now, loud and all-consuming and surprisingly peaceful. I let them overtake me.

A thousand shades of crimson spot at my vision before I finally close my eyes.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

Something isn't right.

I stare at the page of unread texts sent to Scarlett and rub the scruff of my jaw.

Something isn't right.

I don't want to bother her; I don't want to be that controlling boyfriend that keeps her from having fun with her friends and makes her text her all party long- but something is off. I can feel it.

It has been hours since I talked to her on the phone. I tried calling her back but she didn't answer.

The texts aren't even red.

I try calling her again and frown when it rings and rings and rings.

If it was dead I would understand; but her phone is _on_ … she just isn't answering it.

You know what- screw it. I quickly find Nessie's contact and ignore one of the player's throwing a beer in my face as I walk towards a vacant hallway for some quiet.

"Hellllllo?" She sings across the line.

"Nessie," I speak, relieved; she doesn't seem to be worried. "Hey, I'm sorry to call, but can I talk to Scarlett quickly?"

"Wh-what?" She laughs uneasily. "Aren't you with her?"

I freeze. "What?"

"Yeah," She chuckles. "She texted me saying that you were staying down there but that she was still coming. I asked her when she wanted me to pick her up but she never replied, didn't answer any of my calls either. I figured you changed your mind."

I swallow down the panic that fills my lungs and threatens to erupt out of me. "She's not with me. Nessie, I, I- let me talk to Jake," I growl.

"Ugh, okay?" She responds uneasily. "Chill. She probably just fell asleep or something. That girl is a real-life sleeping beau-,"

"Renesmee!" I yell, silencing her. "Jacob. Now."

I hear a quick shuffle and then Jacob's voice fills the line. "Paul, what's wrong?"

"Something's wrong with Scarlett," I tell him quickly. "You need to go over and- and you need to- I'm coming home. I'm coming home."

"Paul," Jacob speaks sternly. "Calm down. What's going on?"

"Scarlett she- she- she's missing." I rub my forehead roughly and moan. "Something's not right. I just- I feel it. Can you please go check?"

"Yes," He answers immediately. "Yes we'll go now. I'm sure everything is fine Paul. Take a deep breath; you're panicking. She probably fell asleep."

I swallow. "Probably." I mentally scream at myself to relax, but it is useless. _She is fine_ , I tell myself over and over again. _Just chill. You're being an idiot. You're completely overreacting. She is seriously going to flip shit when the entire pack barges into her room and she is sound asleep in her bed._ I take a steadying breath. "Could you just go over there?" I plead.

"Yes," Jacob says. "We're going right now."

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I am pulled from my complete and utter blackout confused and sleepy.

I hear something faintly ringing through my ears, but I am too far gone to even care. My body feels heavy.

I hear a ring, much louder than the constant bells playing a melody in my ears and then suddenly feel like I am suffocating. Oddly enough, it comforts me in a way I can't quite explain.

It hurts to breathe.

I feel something touch my side and lurch away.

I can't move, but I can't not move. In fact, I am not in control of my own body anymore; it is making all the decisions for me and my brain isn't working and I am about to shut off. I am checked out. I am not here anymore.

I faintly feel myself roll over and hear a mumble. Was that mine?

"Shit. Shit!"

Is that a voice?

"Scarlett? Scarlett? Oh my God. Fuck. Fuck! What do we do?"

My brain is not working. I can't comprehend the words that are being spoken. I can't tell if they are from one person or many or just made up in my head. I feel like I am watching my life like a movie but it keeps cutting out and it is in black and white and the background noise is too loud and I am barely paying attention.

There is a chorus of voices.

It lulls me to sleep.

I wake up again to hot hands on my arms.

I shiver. "Paul?" I breathe without thinking. I can't recognize my own voice.

"No-," There are more words after that but they fade away. I feel those same hands, and then I suddenly feel like I am floating.

"No!" I scream, my voice erupting out of me weak and broken but stronger than I thought I would be able to. I feel myself touch ground again and roll back onto my side. I am speaking, or rather, I think I am speaking, but all I hear are jumbled words running together and mumbling in a string of incomprehensible sentences.

I can't think.

My body just knows that it doesn't want anyone to touch it.

I fall asleep to voices again.

"Let me try," I hear, clear and loud as I come back to consciousness.

"Scarlett?" I hear my name spoken in a soft tone. It lulls me near blackness. "Scarlett, it's Embry."

I don't know how I am able to speak. "Embry?" I mumble.

Something in my heart slows.

"Can I pick you up?" He asks gently, his mouth close to my ear so he can be heard overtop of the bells. "Can I help you?"

I close my eyes and try to nod my head, but it feels too heavy.

This time, when I feel my body floating in the air, and faintly feel heat pressing into me from all sides, I don't complain.

I can't anymore.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I rush through the hospital doors, my eyes frantic, searching, scanning, examining the room for any sign of anyone that I know… for _her._

 _This can't be happening,_ I am still somehow attempting to convince myself this, even after a three hour car ride.

 _Beaten,_ they had said. _Attacked._

It is as if my senses are heightened. I can hear _better_ , see _clearer,_ though my thought are entirely jumbled and all over the place. I am waiting to hear something familiar, something about her, and I am devouring every square inch of hospital and human and detail in search of a speck of familiarity.

"Sir?"

I turn, my eyes wide and my mind suddenly on high alert. "Yes?"

She looks at me uneasily and then I notice a few other people around giving me the same expression; she must have been calling my name for a while.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

I blink.

Is there something she can help me with?

I nearly laugh.

Instead, I decide to turn this useful and entirely idiotic conversation into something useful. "Scarlett Rhodes."

"Is that your… wife?" She asks slowly.

"I need to see her." My hands form into fists at my sides and I can tell that she notices from the way that her eyes widen at first sight. She takes a step back and I relax; no one is going to keep me from Scarlett, especially not now, but the last thing I want to do is scare some innocent, young woman.

I clear my throat. "I'm sorry. She was brought in a few hours ago. Could you direct me to her room?"

It takes her a moment to regain her composure but my justification seems to satisfy her. She goes behind the huge, circular desk in the middle of the room and reaches for a clipboard. I strum my fingers impatiently on the countertop; I need to see her, I need to _hold_ her. I need to make sure that she is okay.

"Oh," Her face falls and I suddenly see compassion behind the nurse's eyes. It only makes it worse. "She was moved to room 401 to await surgery."

"Surgery?" My mouth goes dry. "What?"

She smiles though it doesn't reach her eyes. "Are you immediate family?"

I blink. "I'm the only family she has."

The nurse's eyes crinkle kindly but she presses her mouth tightly together, a silent no in itself. I grit my teeth together; that monster would be able to hear about the broken bones that _he caused_ yet I can't even get a hint.

"I'll take you up to the waiting room," She says. "There's already a crowd."

That comforts me just a little bit, but enough for me to suddenly value my friends and my pack in a way I never have been able to before.

The nurse leads me to an elevator and then walks me down two long hallways. With each upcoming room, I tense myself, sure that it is going to be the room with _her_ and holding my muscles together in a tight bundle, ready to release them in an instant as I sprint to her side.

By the time we get to the end of the hallway I am sweating.

Of course, she is the last room… but this room is different. There is a waiting room enclosed in glass; I can make out dozens of heads. I don't have to take a second glance to know who they belong to. But what really captures my attention, are the two, wide, wood doors leading to where I know Scarlett is. I can feel it.

I forget to thank the nurse as I boldly rush into the waiting room and head straight for the doors.

"Paul," I hear multiple of my friends call, but I can barely hear them.

 _I need to get to her._

My fingers touch the cool, smooth silver of the handle when suddenly I feel hands on my back.

"Paul," Quil says, pulling me back.

"Let go!" I growl. My eyes scan into the small, glass windows in the center of the doors. I can't make anything out beyond tubes and wires and medical equipment. My stomach drops.

"What, you're just going to barge in there?" Jacob counters, letting go of Nessie to stand in front of me.

It is instantaneous.

As soon as my eyes scan over Resnemee Cullen, I can't look away.

She looks utterly and entirely broken. Her eyes are red and puffy and her lips are red and raw. Her hands are shaking in her lap and her hair is in a messy pony-tale at the top of her head.

I can't hold myself up anymore.

I forget how to swallow as I feel myself losing my footing. Quil helps to guide me down into the chair behind me, and though I want to swat his hand away, Quil touching me is the least of my worries.

For the first time since I sprinted to my car and took off going 120 down the highway, I let the weight of what actually _happened_ overtake me. In order to survive it, I had eliminated all other thoughts or truths or facts and focused solely on getting to her- I didn't think about what happened to her, only how she was alone in it.

I roughly clear my throat.

 _I_ can't cry.

Nothing happened to me.

"Paul," Jacob begins again, though his voice is much gentler this time. He sits back down next to Nessie and pulls her to his chest. Nessie hides her face beneath her hair and I stare at the way that she crumbles into him and how he rubs her shoulder; it reminds me so much of Scarlett it makes me want to breakdown.

"Just," He sighs and kisses her head. "Prepare yourself."

I gulp and blink my eyes rapidly.

"I… can't," I finally get out. My voice sounds painful, which makes sense considering it physically hurt to use it.

"I know," He replies softly.

I look around the rest of the room at my friends as I stand up. Jared, the funny one, the one that is always able to effortlessly lighten the mood, even in the most fucked up of situations is silent, staring at his lap. Kim is staring out the window, her eyes somewhere else. Seth and Leah are sitting in the corner, each of them spinning their straw in their coffee over and over and over again.

The Cullen's are here too.

I don't have the time or the desire to care. She is the only thought on my mind.

I walk towards the door and hear Jacob from behind me. "Embry is in there with her," He says.

I stop. Not upset, just, confused. I give Jacob a questioning glance and he nods his head. "He was the only one she would let touch her."  
It hurts when I take my next breath.

I push the doors open and step inside. I hear them click behind me as my eyes come face to face with her face, though… it doesn't look like her at all. My Scarlett, my beautiful, perfect, soft and glowing Scarlett is a mesh of different colors of red and blue. She is adorned in white bandages and wraps and dressings and there are so many tubes I quickly lose count.

The only part that still looks like her is her hair: Still so blonde it is practically white.

Her eyes are closed and she isn't moving at all. The only sound in the room are the loud echoes of beeps that create a surprisingly comforting rhythm singing the words that she is still alive.

Embry is sitting in a chair next to the bed holding her hand- her good hand, the one that isn't wrapped up in a soft cast so abundantly that it is about the size of four softballs in a row.

I can't seem to look away.

I stare so intensely that eventually she begins to grow blurry, but even then I force her back into focus because I can't fail her now. I wasn't there. I wasn't there and _this_ happened. Someone did this to her. I imagine how she actually got in such a state and grow nauseous.

Wait- no. Not just nauseous. Sick. I am sick.

I stumble towards the trash can that is thankfully right by the door and empty the contents of a half a beer and five slices of pizza. I stand back up with a moan.

Embry is looking at me now; I don't think he even noticed me enter before. He looks me up and down and then looks back at Scarlett, never once letting go of her hand. "You good?" He questions, his voice oddly steady.

I turn on the sink and gulp some water, then splash some more onto my face. I dry myself off and then stand up. I nod but no, no I am not okay.

I walk over to where Embry is sitting and stare down at her, from this close up it is even worse. I bite down on my tongue and try to take in the images of my Scarlett all bruised and broken. It hurts. It hurts so unexplainably bad.

Embry seems uneasy, but he pulls his hand out of hers without me having to ask. He stands and I immediately take his place; this is how it should be. I carefully slip my hand around hers, barely even holding on because she is so hurt everywhere, I am worried that even grazing my fingertips against her skin will somehow cause her more pain.

Scarlett has two black eyes. She was punched in the jaw too, I can tell from the bruise that is already turning purple and the cuts on her lip. Her cheeks are red and raw and bruised and her neck, her neck is covered in gauze so I can't see what is underneath there; I don't want to.

"What happened to her?" I ask slowly, and suddenly I can't help the tears. They fall like a stream down my eyes as I use every ounce of strength in me to make them completely quiet; I don't want to wake her up with this. I need to be the strong one.

"She hasn't really been awake much," Embry explains. I stare at her eyelids fluttering; they are bruised and puffy but still _hers._ "She's on heavy pain meds. The only thing she said when she woke up was… well, she asked for you."

I deflate.

I dry heave at the thought.

How was I not there for her?

I promised her. I fucking _promised_ her this morning that no one would ever touch her again. I had her body between my hands and I let this happen to her. I let someone punch her and hit her and fuck knows what else and all I can think is that I had literally held her body in my hands this morning and I hadn't held on tight enough.

She stirs and I immediately sit up. I gulp down the lump in my throat and stare at her intensely. I want to be able to tell how she is feeling and what she is feeling and what she is saying when she isn't even saying anything without having to ask; I want to be so attentive that she never feels an ounce of fear or misunderstanding or pain again.

I just want to take it all away.

Scarlett mumbles something incomprehensible and then moves her head from side to side, almost restlessly.

"She's been doing that," Embry says, standing over me. "The nurse said it is because of the opioids; they make her loopy."

I can't stop staring at her face.

How could someone do this to her? A vision of Scarlett, her eyes glassy and wide and her mouth nervously trembling as he punches her in the eye makes my heart rate shoot up.

I shake my head viscously and growl deep in my throat, pushing it away. I can't think about what happened to her- I can only think about her.

Scarlett's moans again and I kiss her hand gently.

My Scarlett. My baby Scarlett is in a hospital bed beaten. _Beaten_. I can't breathe.

"What are her injuries?" I ask Embry, my voice void of all the emotions that are overtake my entire being.

He doesn't answer at first. "I don't think you want to know that."

"Fucking tell me," I blurt, taking a deep breath as I do so.

Embry sighs. "She has a concussion, mild brain swelling which makes it more dangerous but they need to run more tests. Two broken ribs, a broken leg, nerve damage to her hand and possible vocal cord damage, but they don't know how severe."

I close my eyes and hold her hand to my forehead.

"Scarlett," I kiss her hand and shake my head. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so, so, so, so, sorry." My words are useless whispers, but I don't know what else to do other than saying them; I am at a loss for how to possibly fix this.

"I'll just… go." Embry says quietly.

I don't look away from my her bruised and beaten face as I speak to him. "Embry," I say, my voice quiet enough not to disrupt her but loud enough to keep him from leaving. "Thank you. I know you… care." I gulp down the bile in my throat. "I don't know how much but I know you do, and I just want to say thank you. If I couldn't have been there," The wind is knocked out of me, "I am happy that you were."

He doesn't respond.

I hear the door close a second later.

Now alone, I let my head fall into her hand and close my eyes. How did this happen? It seems like just five minutes ago I was on the phone with her, flirting and talking about the game and telling her that I loved her. I get nauseous thinking about how a minute after she hung up with me, _this_ happened.

Without anyone else between Scarlett and I, I finally can't hold it in anymore. Tears spill out of my eyes as I drop my face into the mattress and sob quietly. This can't be happening.

Scarlett mumbles again and I pick my head up, clearing my throat frantically as I frustratingly slap the tears off of my cheeks. This isn't about me. I swallow down the lump in my throat until it is all the way in my stomach and then I take a deep breath.

"Scarlett?" I ask.

I am not sure if I should wake her up; if it would make it better or worse or if it would cause her any sort of pain. What I do know, though, is that I want her to know that I am here, and that she is safe. If she sleeps for two more weeks that is fine, as long as she knows _that._

"Scarlett?" I reach out to run my fingers through her hair but then recoil immediately. I don't want to touch her anywhere that she may be hurt, and right now it seems like she is hurt everywhere.

I kiss her fingers gently and rub her skin with my thumb. "Scarlett?" I kiss the back of her hand.

She stirs and then lets out a breath and a moan at the same time.

"Baby?" I stroke the backs of my nails down her wrist. "Wake up." I kiss her wrist.

Scarlett's forehead scrunches together and then she raises her other hand to rub her face. I catch her heavily bandaged hand and arm before she can hurt herself and then slowly lower it back down onto the bed.

She bats her long eyelashes open as I am still reaching across her body.

"Paul?" She mumbles, her voice is airy and weak.

I try to smile, though it doesn't reach my eyes. Seeing her like this is even harder when she is looking at me; it is even harder because she is still her.

I sit back down and reach for her hand. "Hi beautiful," I say, the word making my eyes water. She is beautiful though, even with all of her bruises.

Scarlett mumbles something incoherent and then I watch as her eyelashes flutter shut. Her chest moves in a gentle rhythm.

"Scarlett?" I whisper gently.

She moans and twists her face from side to side to side. "Wh-wh-who is, who?" She whimpers.

"It's Paul, honey. Are you in pain?" I ask nervously; if she is than I will give her more pain medication myself if I have to.

She mumbles again. "Lahote?"

I nearly laugh. "Yes, baby girl, Paul Lahote."

A small smile fills her face and then she frowns and pulls her hand from mine to touch her cut up and swollen lips.

"Hey," I say, pulling her hand back and kissing her fingertips. "Don't touch, okay?"

She opens her eyes again. "I can't feel my face," She says slowly, her voice raspy. "And what's wrong with my voice? I sound like the hulk."

I chuckle, at the same time biting back tears. What is even harder about her being attacked is that she has all the bruises to prove it but she is still Scarlett; it makes it real.

"You're on drugs," I tell her. "But you're safe. I'm here, Scar. You're safe."

"What kinds of drugs?" She mumbles and then sighs.

"Ugh, I'm not sure," I tell her. "I can check if you would like."

She giggles suddenly. I scrunch my forehead in confusion. What could possibly be funny about this situation?

"I feel like I am floating," She giggles.

Scarlett's high.

I kiss her knuckles and then skim them against my lips.

Scarlett moans loudly and then opens her mouth a few times to speak, licking her bottom lip and then swallowing with a wince, though I don't think it hurt her as much as it was tricky to figure out how to do.

"I'm horny," She says finally.

My eyes pop. "What?"

She nods her head and then mumbles something that I can't make sense of. She pulls her hand away and begins rubbing at her eyes roughly. I wince and pull it back down, nervously examining her black eyes though it doesn't seem any worse.

Fuck, she really must be high.

She bats her eyelashes over and over again. "Are you sleepy?" I ask her softly.

Scarlett mumbles and then nods her head.

"I need, I need, I need," She moans and tosses her head from side to side.

"Shhh," I whisper softly. Man, she is really out of it. "It's okay baby, go back to sleep, okay?"

"Wh-wh-wh-sl-I," She looks down towards the bed and then stares at the sheet for a while. "I'm c-cold," She finally says.

"You're cold?" I stand quickly and then grab a blanket from across the room resting on a chair. I drape it overtop of her body, sure not to touch her anywhere, and then lean overtop of her.

"Sleep, baby." I lean down to kiss her but stop. I find a spot on her forehead that is bare and finally press my lips into her skin.

She mumbles and then whimpers but closes her eyes none-the-less.

"I'm cold," She mumbles sleepily.

"You're okay," I tell her gently.

Scarlett mumbles jumbled words and sentences that seem to continue forever as she uncomfortably shifts around in bed.

"I-I can't feel my toes," I finally hear clearly.

I reach down and pull the covers off of her feet. I nearly breathe a breath of relief when her feet are the same as always; at least some part of her isn't hurt. I wrap my hands around her toes and squeeze gently.

"Mmm," She smiles. "I'm horny."

"Scarlett," I smile. "Go to sleep, okay sweetheart?"

"Paul Lahote?" She questions suddenly, her smile dropping.

"I'm here baby." I pull the covers back over her feet and then reach for her hand again. "I'm right here."

She moans and breathes deeply. "Paul."

"Yes?"

She mumbles my name a few times but then closes her eyes.

After I think she has been asleep for a while she twists her head uncomfortably and then mumbles my name.

"I'm here," I kiss her hand, and this is what I say every single time as she does that repeatedly.

This goes on for about ten minutes until she is finally asleep.

I hear a knock on the window and then look out to see Jacob nodding at me to come out. I nervously look at Scarlett. I don't want to leave her alone, I really don't, but I know that Jacob wouldn't pull me out of here unless it is something important.

I kiss her hand and slowly pull my hand away from her, resting her palm gently on the bed. I sigh as I look at her; this feels wrong, leaving her alone at all for even a second, but she is sleeping, and if how hard it was to wake her was any indication, she is going to be out for a while.

I stand up and then rush towards the door. I don't want to have to be gone for longer than I have to.

"What?" I ask, my voice coarse. I clear my throat. "What?" I ask again.

I look over to see Jacob standing with none other than Charlie Swan, the chief of police and Renesmee's grandfather. I gulp and walk over to him.

"What's going on?" I ask. I swallow down straight fire at the mere thought of him having that sick bastard in custody and blink rapidly so that the red leaves my vision.

"I was just telling Charlie that we won't need his help. We will handle this on our own. Right?" He locks his gaze with Charlie and then nods his head slowly, as if convincing him.

Ever since Jacob told Charlie about who we are, we have had a sort of understanding with the police department. Jacob would alert Charlie on certain matters that he didn't want the police to have any part in, and they would alert us if there was something that they suspected we needed to deal with.

Charlie sighs. "The attacker came from out of town and the victim is not in the pack, Jake. This should be a police matter."

"But it's not," Jacob answers quickly, his voice leaving zero room for discussion. "We have it under control."

"Jacob, if you turn him into us we can try him and send him away for a very long time, I can promise you that."

My breathing stops.

Jacob has him.

"No," I answer quickly, sternly, with a bone-shattering shake of my body and every thought of every way I am going to hurt him, kill him, beat him running through my brain at warped speed.

Charlie stares at me for a moment before looking back at Jake. Finally he shakes his head and runs his hand over his face. "Alright, Jake. Alright. I just want you boys to know that I recommend the matter be dealt with by the police. With the victim being underage and the possible sexual assault I-,"

"What?"

My eyes grow wide and every bone in my body freezes over and stops working.

Jacob closes his eyes and then shakes his head. I don't think he had wanted me to know that one quite yet.

Charlie sighs. "Her blouse was ripped open."

I growl deep in the back of my throat and then take a few steps back. I focus on keeping my breathing under control as I rock back and forth. These times. The images that I have make my heart stop and my body shake and my brain scream. I moan and press my hands to my eyes.

"Possible, Paul," Jake clasps his hand on my shoulder and I moan.

"Charlie, we'll take it from here. Tell your guys to back off." The respectful tone has completely disappeared from his voice as he turns his back to him and then pushes me forward.

"Get yourself together and back in there," He tells me sternly.

I shoot my gaze to him. "Where is he?"

Jacob shakes his head. "Not now."

"Fuck you," I shove him. "Where?"

"You're too upset," He speaks slowly. "You don't even know what happened yet."

"I don't know what happened?" I laugh bitterly. "Look at her fucking face," I yell. Silence fills the room around us as Jacob goes silent. He can't dispute that.

Finally, he nods his head.

"When is she scheduled for surgery?" I ask quickly, suddenly remembering what the nurse had said. "Nessie stay with her," I say before anyone has a chance to answer.

"O-of course," I hear her reply as I walk towards the exit with Jacob and Quil following behind me. "Call me if they try to take her into surgery."

I stop worrying about being with Scarlett; Scarlett is safe now, and I start imagining all the different things that I am going to do to this guy.

I use that anger to run me all the way there.

Jacob shifts back and I nearly forget to put my clothes back on as Jacob leads me towards the barn behind his father's house. Sam is there, standing guard in front of the door as he diverts his gaze from mine when I get close. I am shaking at Jacob pulls the door open.

I step inside.

I don't have to ask for them to leave me, I know that they do. They respect me enough to know that whatever I do needs to be done.

There is a thin, wispy, buzzing light filling the room as my eyes land on _him_. He lifts his head to see what all the commotion is and I grit my teeth.

He is tied to a chair in the middle of the room. He has dried blood on his nose from when they must have subdued him. It's not nearly enough. He is quite muscular for an older guy, about mid 30's, and he has short, dark brown almost black hair and tan skin. He has scruff around his jaw and dark eyes that glisten black when they move.

I just can't stop thinking. _This_ is the man that hurt Scarlett nearly every day for the last 14 or 15 or 16 or 17 years, depending on when that bastard became her step-father. _This_ is the man that hurt her tonight…

This could be the man that raped her.

It's a crazy thought, and I wish with everything that I have that she managed to get out and lock herself in the bathroom in time, because the thought that that actually could have happened to _my_ Scarlett makes me want to absolutely and completely die. But that is regardless; the point is that he had _tried_ to.

"You let me go and I'll call this a misunderstanding, son," He says.

My hands ball up into fists at the sound of his voice. I feel like I have been picked up and transported into Scarlett's prior life. This is what she heard when he called her names. Is this what he sounded like when she asked him to stop and he said no?

He has a deep voice, smooth and political. It makes me cringe.

"I'm a cop."

I freeze.

A cop?

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck Fuck.

He's a fucking cop.

I swallow down an eruption of realization and disgust; no wonder Scarlett never told anyone.

I walk around him, steadying myself to be sure that I do not kill him right here and right now before I have a chance to make him beg for the killing the actually happen.

I want to take 17 years of the most painful physical abuse and morph it into a few hours of torture. I don't know how, but that is exactly what I am going to do.

My eyes land on his hands that are tied behind his back. His knuckles are red and bloodied.

Those knuckles hit Scarlett.

I can't help myself anymore.

Without thinking, I kick my leg on top of his tied up hands and jump down on him. He screams, a deep, throaty scream that makes me want to hear it again and again and again and again until I have it memorized. I hear his shoulder pop out of place and then slowly walk over to his side.

 _Relax,_ I tell myself. _This isn't about you. This is about Scarlett._ I know that I need to think clearly.

I grab his shoulder between my hands and slip it back into place.

He moans.

I reach for his hands and then untie them. Immediately, he lunges for me, as to be expected. I easily break his nose between my fingers and then raise his hands up. I re-tie the rope around a wood board running along the ceiling as his screams fill the barn.

I rip off his shirt.

And then his pants, too.

I go over to the other side of the room and pick up a long, thin piece of wire that I believe Jacob had used for fencing a long time ago.

I wrap it up in my hands as I slowly walk towards him.

"Do you know what 365 times 17 is?" I ask slowly.

"Wh-what?" He asks. I see sweat beads forming on the edge of his hairline.

It doesn't matter.

365 x 17.

About 6,000.

That's a start.

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WHEW- that chapter was heavy! Let me know what you guys thought of this chapter please- do much to talk about! There is still so much that needs to be said- I can't wait to write the next chapter! See you soon & review for update! xoxo


	24. See You on the Other Side

Hi guys! This one's in Paul's POV but I promise the next one will be all Scarlett- it is about time we hear from her;) Enjoy and seriously, thanks for all the reviews and welcome to all the new followers!

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 **Paul's POV**

Thick, dark crimson is dripping from the wire. Dripping from my hands. Dripping from him. Dripping all over the floor.

It is everywhere.

It is everywhere when I hear a knock on the outside of the door, nearly hidden beneath his screams.

I made sure that I inflicted the maximum amount of pain without getting him to the state of not feeling it anymore. I stopped counting a while ago, though I am far from done. Hundreds of thousands of scars cover his body and I worry that he will lose too much blood before I finish with him. It isn't necessarily making me feel better, but it is what he deserves.

I drop the rope onto the ground and pull my shirt off. It was soaked with blood, and although I know no one will object to this bastard getting exactly what he fucking deserves, no one else needs to see it. There is blood splattered on my pants and shoes, though not nearly as much so I leave them on. I carefully wring the wire together and set it on the table with Jacob's tools that I have yet to use.

I know that whomever had knocked wouldn't have knocked unless Scarlett was awake, so I focus on that as I step out of the shed and find Jacob waiting for me at the car. He just barely looks at me as he hands me some clothes.

"You better hose yourself off," He says, as if we're talking about last night's sports game.

"She up?" I ask, taking the clothes and talking towards the hose on the side of his house.

"Just woke up. Nessie called."

My bones ache as I reach for the hose and begin scrubbing all the blood off of me. Red soaks through the ground, invading the soil; I stare at in unwavering. Knowing that Scarlett is awake causes an urge inside of me that I have to fight against; I want to- no, I _need_ to take off sprinting towards her.

I change and am back in the car in record time.

Jacob doesn't say anything as we pull out of his driveway and onto the main road. I don't think he ever will.

As soon as we get into the hospital I can tell that the mood has shifted. It isn't like everyone is standing in a circle singing kumbya, but that fear, hot and fresh and debilitating, has left the room like a thick, constricting blanket. Now, a sheet of sadness remains, lighter but still there. There is almost a slight sense of relief palpable in the air, though the truth is what keeps everything so damn depressing: My Scarlett is broken.

"Scarlett's up," Kim says with a half of a smile when she sees me.

I nod, barely acknowledging her. I am not trying to be rude; hell, I can't thank them all enough for what they did for her, what they are still doing, how they were there for her and I could trust them with her when I wasn't. I have no idea how I am going to repay them for this.

I can't think about it right now, though. All I can think about is Scarlett.

Fuck I need to see her.

I slip into her room and immediately it hits me again, like a tsunami. I know that I need to close my eyes and take a deep breath, but I can't look away from her.

Nessie is sitting in the chair that I had been sitting in earlier as Jared is standing, his arms crossed overtop of his chest while he is telling something to Scarlett with a big grin on her face. None of them notice I entered the room.

I hear a giggle and then have to close my eyes for a moment. Fuck, that laugh. That laugh makes it real. It makes it real because it is so completely and entirely Scarlett that there is no denying that this happened to _her_. My Scarlett, the same one who showers with me and blushes at everything I say and wears bikini's at the beach is the girl with the black and purple and red bruises littering every inch of her perfect face.

Scarlett is lying on her side with her cheek pressed into the pillow. She has a constant grimace on her face even when she is laughing, which is hard to ignore. She looks like she is in pain.

I step forward and her mesmerizing blue eyes flicker over to mine. I gulp. How could that fuck have hurt her when she looked at him with those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

Scarlett softens right before my very eyes. And then she crumbles.

I quickly rush forward and then sit down on the edge of her bed. Only she knows how comfortable she is with anyone touching her right now, so I let her take the lead. Scarlett pulls herself into my lap and rests her cheek into my chest. I gently wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly to me, trying to be extra careful not to cause her any more pain than she is already in.

Her chest shakes with soft sobs that are more depressing and somber-inducing than anything I have ever heard. It would honestly be easier to handle if she was sobbing those thick, heavy kinds where you feel like you can't breathe; but Scarlett isn't sobbing. Scarlett is weak, but she isn't broken. She is so strong it makes my chest ache.

"You're safe," I run my fingers through the ends of her hair and oh, so, very gently kiss the top of her head.

She sniffles and then hugs me tighter. "It hurts," She complains, a slight whimper to her voice.

"What?" I ask, immediately tightening my grasp around her. I look up in panic at Nessie and Jared who are still right next to us.

"They had to wean her off of the pain medication in order to put her to sleep for surgery," Nessie explains softly.

Scarlett sobs quietly into my chest.

"For what?" I whisper.

"Her hand," Nessie swallows and diverts her eye contact.

I don't push for more information.

Something inside of me is telling me that I don't want to know the answer; that whatever happened to her hand is something that none of us can handle hearing out loud right now, especially her.

God damn I am going to kill him.

"Paul?" I hear her ask, her voice high and weak.

"Yes?" I respond gently. Everything that I do I seem to cater to make gentler and calmer.

"T-They s-said t-that I m-may not b-b-b-be a-ble to use my hand again." She sucks in a quick sob as she somehow manages to get through that sentence.

I wince and close my eyes for a moment. I want to console her, to tell her that everything is going to be okay and not to worry. I want to wrap her up in my arms and hug her so tightly that she can't even remember the world and what it could do to her… but I can't.

I can't tell her that everything is going to be okay because I don't know if it will. I can't hold her that tight because she is too bruised and broken.

"I know," I tell her gently. "I'm so sorry, Scar."

"Where did you go?" She asks, quieter and much more fragile this time.

Both Jared and Nessie look straight at the ground.

I kiss the side of her head so gently I doubt she even notices. "I had to take care of something," I tell her slowly.

She is silent for a second. I wonder if she would have an opinion about what was happening to her fucking punk-ass stepfather- I am not sure it would make a difference if she did.

"You were gone when I woke up," She finishes finally. If she caught what I was subtly trying to avoid, she doesn't make any inclination.

"I'm sorry, baby," I whisper into her ear. "Nessie was here, though," I try to make my voice light at the end.

"Yeah," She responds slowly. "But you weren't."

I feel like I just got punched in the gut.

"That hurts Scar," Jared begins. "Are my jokes not good enough for you?"

I feel her gently laugh in my arms and offer Jared a small smile. He tries to smile himself, though it is so obviously forced that it is hard to look at; Jared is incredible because he is obviously as depressed as the rest of us, yet he is trying everything he can do to make her laugh.

She takes a deep breath and then I feel her wince. "It hurts to breathe," She wheezes.

I run my fingers up and down her back so delicately I barely even feel the fabric of her hospital gown as I do so.

"Hey Scar, we're going to go get you some more water, is that alright?" Nessie asks as she stands up.

Scarlett nods her head in response.

I watch as they leave and the door slide's shut; I know that Nessie cared less about water and more about giving us some time alone. All that is left are the two of us and the beeps that the machines by her bed are making.

"Paul?" Scarlett picks up her head and tries to rest her chin on my chest but winces when it is obviously too painful. I pull her away from me so that she can look at me. "I'm really sorry, okay?" I can hear the lump in her throat as she speaks. She swallows it down as her eyes water.

"What?" I frown.

"You didn't even get to celebrate. This weekend was supposed to be all about you and… I ruined it."

"Wh- Scarlett, don't say that."

"I'm sorry," She sniffles.

"Yeah," I can't keep the bite from my tone even though I know it is the last thing that she deserves. "It's so annoying that you got attacked. I can't believe you were selfish enough to get beat up on _my_ day. God."

Two small, vertical lines form between her eyebrows as she frowns. "I'm sorry," She states weakly. "Don't be mad."

"Mad?" I can barely believe my ears. "Baby I'm not mad at you. How on earth could you possibly think that I would be mad at you for this?"

She shrugs.

"Just stop, okay?" I take a deep breath. "It's really pissing me off."

"Well why do you even care?" Her voice is so cutting I momentarily stop breathing. "You weren't here when I first got admitted and you weren't here when I woke up, either."

I freeze.

Scarlett begins sobbing, those heavy, thick, earth-shattering ones that I thought she was so strong for not having earlier, yet now she is… because of me.

I pull her tightly to my chest, ignoring that I may be hurting her, and rest my back against the wall behind her bed, pulling her down with me.

"I-I-I'm s-s-o s-sorry," She gasps between sobs. "I have n-no i-d-dea why I s-said that."

I gently rub small circles into her back and kiss the side of her head. "Shhh," I whisper to her. "It's okay. I'm sorry baby girl."

"N-no," She hiccups. "Don't be sorry. That was so unfair!"

I kiss her again, gently. "No it wasn't," I swallow down the lump in my throat. "I wasn't here."

Scarlett cries harder.

"Shhh," I tell her. "I've got you honey."

"I'm terrible," She sobs, grasping my shirt tightly in her small hand.

"No you're not." I run my fingers through the ends of her soft, blonde hair, for I know this has no possibility of hurting her. "Not even close."

"I-I-I'm s-sorry I said that to you."

"Don't be sorry," I sigh. "It was true. I'm sorry I got pissy. I'm not mad at _you_ , obviously, it just really, really, really upsets me that you blame yourself for ruining my weekend. Scar, I would rather have died than this happened to you; fuck a stupid football game."

She sniffles and lets out a jagged breath. "I'm sorry."

"Would you stop saying you're sorry?" I moan.

She giggles through her tears. "Sorry."

"Now you're just being smart."

Scarlett rests her cheek against my chest and then sighs. "You were with him, weren't you?"

My entire body tenses. Does she have to be so damn perceptive?

I don't answer.

"Paul?" I hear her ask after a moment.

"Yeah, Scar?" I pray she doesn't push the subject.

"Could you maybe rub my back? It's not really hurt that much."

I close my eyes and shake my head; _it's not really hurt that much._ I gently glide my hand around to her back. I try, I really do, but I can't touch her with any more force than you would touch a bubble as you try not to pop it.

"Paul," She moans. "I can't even feel it."

I laugh gently. "I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart."

"I told you I'm not hurt back there," She counters.

I bite the inside of my cheek. It's not that I don't believe her, but I need proof before I just start scrubbing away. "Can I look, baby?"

It takes her a moment but finally she nods into my chest. "Yes."

I sit up and gently pull her up with me as she still rests her cheek against my chest. I try not to move her as much as possible, for I know that it must hurt her bruised face. I lean overtop of her so that I can see and then slowly pull the string open in the back of her hospital gown. I push the thin fabric aside prepared for the worst, and am entirely surprised.

Scarlett's back has one small bruise on the top, near her neck, and then a few on the sides, other than that, her skin is just the same as I have always remembered it. A sudden surge of excitement flows through my veins at warped speed.

I twist so that I can lean around her and then start kissing her skin. Any area in which that perfect, porcelain, smooth skin lays my lips are bound to touch, and once I start I can't quite stop myself.

"Paul," She laughs after a moment, though she can't hide the way that her breaths have grown deeper from me. She also can't hide the way that her eyes dart to the door, worried that someone will walk in. "What are you doing?"

I smile into her skin. "I can't kiss you anywhere else, and I _really_ need to kiss you."

She giggles. "I'm not hurt down here," She looks towards her lap and I swear if it weren't for her bruises she would be blushing. "You can kiss there?"

I roll my eyes. "Or rub your back?"

She laughs as I go to sit back down against the wall. I hold my arm out for her to join me and then when she lays down I pull the blanket overtop of her and press my hand to her bare back. She moans as I move it in a slow rhythm up and down.

"That feels good," She murmurs.

I kiss her forhead gently, but not gently enough. She winces and I immediately pull away. "I'm sorry," She whispers.

"Don't be."

My fingers skim across the top of her bare bottom and I feel her shudder underneath me. I smile to myself and go back to rubbing her back; if I can make Scarlett feel good at a time like this, than I feel like I have helped, even if it is just a little bit.

Scarlett tilts her face up to look at me and I immediately notice the tears condensing in the corners of her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I ask, concern seeping out of my voice as I stroke a piece of hair behind her ear.

She goes to bite the corner of her lip but then winces and gulps; I try not to frown. She blinks her ocean blue eyes rapidly and then shakes her head. "I- I thought I was going to die," She finally admits.

I immediately reach my hands up to take her face between my palms but then hesitate and hold them in the air. A single tear drops down Scarlett's cheek and I grimace; how is it possible to feel her pain just by seeing it?

"It's okay," She clears her throat when her voice doesn't come out clear. "I- I'm not _upset_ about that. It happened so fast. I- I just- once I woke up I realized that I wasn't ready, you know? Like, before it would have been different."

I try to make sense of her jumbled sentence, but as much as I try I am left utterly confused. "What do you mean?" I ask softly.

"I love you," She speaks slowly, those huge, blue eyes beading into mine as she does so. "I'm not ready to leave you. I-it happened so fast and it scares me. It scares me because there will never be a time when the last time you touch me will be enough. I just- I just am really scared now that I think about it, okay? Can you please not leave again?" There is a pleading behind her eyes that I can't possibly understand.

"Scarlett," I whisper slowly. "You are my entire life. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

She closes her eyes and then nods her head. "Promise?"

I run my fingers down her spine. "Will you open your eyes?" I ask gently; I don't want to make her a promise without telling her eyes, too.

She shakes her head.

I nearly smile. "Why not, beautiful?"

She frowns and then opens them on instinct. "Don't call me that."

I frown. "Why not?"

"Because it's not true," She mumbles and then lays back down against my chest.

"Wh- what?" I blurt. When she doesn't respond I push some more. "Scarlett, what are you talking about? What do you mean it's not true? You're the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Stop," She moans.

"Why?" I push. "You're perfect."

"Not like this." Her voice is so quiet I barely hear her.

I nearly crumble, but I don't because I need to be strong for her. "Scarlett," I say gently. "You are- that is- you don't,"

"See," She breathes.

"What? Scarlett I'm just trying to figure out how to explain to you how ridiculous I think you're being without just flat out saying it."

I feel her laugh gently against my chest. I smile and wrap my arms around her.

"Scarlett," I whisper into her ear. "You are beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful. You're _hurt_. You're hurt but that doesn't make you any less beautiful."

She sighs against my chest. "You must really love me or something."

I chuckle and begin running my fingers through her hair again. "That is a problem of mine."

"Could you just stay here and rub my back like this until surgery?" Her voice is teetering on nervousness.

"Scarlett," I sigh. "I'm not going anywhere. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

She doesn't respond.

"Hey."

She tilts her face towards me in wonder. "What?"

I run my finger along a single spot on her face that isn't bruised or swollen. "I promise."

She smiles just a little bit but doesn't seem all that convinced. "You know I'm really sorry about yelling at you earlier." I rack my brain for a memory of her yelling at me but come up blank. "It wasn't fair of me to blame you for not being here. I didn't mean it, I swear. I was just being stupid."

"Scarlett," I shake my head in disbelief. "Would you please stop worrying about me leaving you? You're my girl. I love you so much it's unbelievable. I don't want you spending your time worrying about me; I just need you to focus on getting better."

"I was a jerk though," She whimpers.

I roll my eyes. "You're in the hospital for getting the shit beat out of you; I think you're allowed to be a little pissy."

She giggles.

"Actually," I continue, seeming to get through to her. "It is encouraged. So feel free, call me names and yell at me and you could even smack me too if you want."

Scarlett giggles some more, louder this time. "But I love you, I don't want to call you names!"

I smile and scratch my fingers up and down her soft, soft skin of her back. "Scarlett," I lock my gaze with hers. "There is nothing in this world you could ever do to make me walk away from you, do you understand? I'm here until you don't want me anymore, and then probably after that, too," I gulp down acid just at the thought. "And this, this is what it's all about. This will _never_ happen to you again, _never_ , but I'll always be here. I love you and I will always take care of you, no matter what, okay?"

She smiles, a real, Scarlett smile and I feel slightly relieved. "Okay, Pauley."

"Okay." I sigh and pat my chest. "Now lay down." I run my hand up and down her back and moan. "I wish that I could kiss you."

Scarlett mumbles into my shirt. "I wish that you could, too."

"Are you nervous about surgery?" I ask her.

"Not really," She sighs. "I feel like I already got through the painful part so now all that's left is the fun stuff!"

I cringe.

"Joke," She clarifies.

"You're so funny."

"Would you still love me with one hand?" She asks, her voice picking up in fake sadness at the end that immediately alerts me to yet another inappropriate joke that is much too soon. "Think you could make me a hook?"

"Shut up," I sigh.

She giggles and slides her hand underneath my shirt.

"Jesus." I jump when her cold fingers skim my burning skin. "You're freezing. Are you cold, honey?"

Scarlett shrugs. "I'm fine."

"Than why'd you do that?" I ask.

"Because I like touching you," She giggles. "And I'm kind of turned on."

I shake my head; I can't even laugh. "What could possibly turn you on about this situation."

She shrugs again. "You?"

I sigh. "Why don't you try to sleep, hm?"

"Not tired," She yawns.

"You know, you really need to stay out of the hospital from now on. I feel like you're going to try to rape me in a few minutes."

As soon as the words are out all of the color and life and just everything drain from my face and then my entire body. Fuck. _Fuck._ How could I have said that?

"Oh my God," I sit up. "I-I'm so sorry Scar. I- I wasn't thinking- fuck that as so stupid."

Scarlett picks her head up and looks at me funny. "What?"

"I am such an idiot." I moan. "That was a stupid thing to say. I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry."

Scarlett cocks her head at me, still seeming utterly confused. "Ugh, it's okay. I'm not too sensitive about rape jokes you can chill."

I cringe. "I'm so sorry- that was so fucking- God! I am an idiot." I roughly rub my face with my hand as Scarlett's swollen lips part.

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?"

I frown. "Well, I- I don't want to be insensitive. I mean, with what happened…,"

Her mouth drops and her eyes pop.

"You don't have to talk about it," I clarify quickly. "At all. Please, please don't feel pressured. Just- you can pretend like I don't know if you want to. Just pretend like I never said anything. I was being an idiot."

I am not sure the protocol on sexual assault aside from the burning hatred that sears through my veins and engulfs my body in a fiery flame and makes me want to kill the man who violated her, but I do think it may be something that she only ever talks about with a therapist one day.

The vision of her being held down as he- no. _No._ I shove the image away and clear my throat.

I can't think about that without throwing up.

"You think he raped me?" Scarlett blurts suddenly.

I nearly jump. "W-well not necessarily," I clarify.

Her eyes widen. "What does that mean?" She exclaims. "What do you think he did?"

I struggle with my words for a moment before I finally shrug. "I'm not sure, Scar. I'm trying not to think about it."

Scarlett's mouth drops again and a sound of disbelief slips between her lips. "Wh- you- you're crazy, you know that?" And then she laughs, like an actual laugh like _oh wow this is so funny I just got attacked and sexually assaulted yet this is the funniest moment of my life._ I frown. "He didn't rape me Paul," She speaks slowly, her voice oddly clear for how rough her voice has been. "Or touch me… at all. Anywhere."

I jump up in bed. "He didn't?"

Scarlett gasps slightly and pulls away before regaining her composure. "No, he didn't. Why would you have thought that?" She seems upset.

"Charlie said that your shirt was ripped open."

She blinks, her face skillfully impassive. "Who the hell is Charlie?"

"The police," I clarify.

Her eyes widen and I notice her gulp. It is as if all the color drains from her face right before my very eyes. I reach out, ready to catch her if she were to spontaneously faint. "The police?" Her voice is merely a whisper.

"Don't worry," I quickly reassure her, connecting the dots immediately. "Jacob and Sam and I took care of it. They're not getting involved."

I can physically feel the tension leave her body as it floats away. "Oh," She takes a deep breath. "Wait!" She begins suddenly, "About the shirt. He didn't touch me, you know."

I try not to get too overcome with relief; it wouldn't be unlike Scarlett to lie about something like this. It is very Scarlett-esque, though I hate to admit it. I am not blaming her for it; that is the worst possible thing I could ever think happening to someone, so I could understand if she wasn't ready to tell me.

"Paul," She sits up straighter and then cringes when she moves just a little too much. I cringe at her cringing. "Seriously. I'm not lying."

How did she know I was thinking that?

"He was… creepy. And I think he tried for a second but- but as soon as he ripped my shirt I freaked out. I've never really fought back against him," She lowers her eyes in a shame that catches me entirely off guard. I am suddenly reminded that Scarlett and I have never actually talked about how the years of abuse affected her, how she felt about it, if she blamed herself for any of it; the thought alone is too preposterous for me to take seriously, but know that I have to. "But I just… _that_ wasn't happening."

I swallow harshly and then run my fingers down her back, wishing that I could do the same to her face, for that is what I really want to touch.

"So he," I make sure to be really careful with my words. "Tried?"

"Not really," She sighs. "He just… said some things."

"What kind of things?" I can't help my hands from balling into fists at my sides.

Scarlett sighs and reaches for them. They immediately loosen. She uses her good hand to pull my hand into her lap and begins tracing the lines of my palm. I am putty at her feet- God I love this girl. It makes me sad all over again seeing her like this.

"Nothing, Paul," She purses her lips and then winces.

"Scarlett," I know that I shouldn't necessarily be pushing, but I can't help it. "What did he say?"

"Just some weird shit," She sighs and then looks up at me. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Please? You know you can tell me anything." I immediately feel guilt for pulling out that card to get what I want, but not enough to rescind.

Scarlett stares at me, blinking and thinking, as I force myself to be patient.

"He told me not to wear lipstick. Called me a slut. Saw my ring. Connected some dots. Asked if I was a virgin and then said he was going to check to see if I still was. Okay?" She says suddenly, quickly and bluntly.

My eyes widen.

No, not okay. Not fucking okay at all. Nothing about this is okay.

I swallow down vomit and nod my head.

She rolls her eyes. "This is why I didn't want to tell you."

"What do you mean?" I scrunch my forehead at her.

"I knew you would freak out!"

"I am not freaking out," I clarify. She shoots me her award-winning condescending Scarlett face. "I am slightly panicking," I clarify.

She giggles and then runs her hand down my face. I moan and close my eyes.

"Scarlett," I say in bliss.

I hear her laugh, gently. "He didn't touch me."

"Thank God," I breathe.

"Yeah," She sighs. "It's just weird, you know?"

I open my eyes. "Hm?"

"It's weird," She repeats. "I spent fifteen years with the guy." Fifteen, not seventeen; oh well, he deserved everything he got and more. "And he never even tried… or acted like that at all. I mean, he hurt me in every other way, but he never so much as suggested that before yesterday."

I swallow down the lump in my throat. It is completely depressing how blazé she talks about her abuse.

"Weird," I manage to get out.

"Yeah," Scarlett sighs and tries to run her fingers through her hair though she hits a sore spot and grimaces. I pull her hand out of her hair and kiss the back of it. "It's like he was… waiting or something."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I never had a boyfriend or anything. It's really weird, but I think he was waiting for it, because it sort of gave him an excuse."

I don't respond; I can't.

There is a knock on the door and Scarlett drops back down so that I am holding her in my lap as a nurse enters the room.

"Hi Scarlett," She says happily, and then slightly frowns when she sees me. "You know you're not allowed to be in the bed with her."

"Oh."

I don't move.

She sighs and then comes over to the side of the bed. "I told you this the last time your friend was up there with you, Scarlett."

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "Renesmee Cullen weighs about five pounds, what did you think she was going to do?"

"Well your boyfriend weighs much more than five pounds. I'll make you a deal: If you make him get off I'll let him come in the operating room when you go into surgery."

There is no denying the spark that shoots behind Scarlett's eyes. "Really?"

"Yes," The nurse smiles; I get the feeling that my Scarlett is privy to many privileges that are not normally bestowed upon ordinary patients because… well… because she is a seventeen year old abuse victim. "Just until you're put to sleep, deal?"

"Deal!" Scarlett practically shoves me off of the bed though I manage not to completely face plant.

"Nice, Scar," I mumble as I pull myself up to sit in the chair bedside the bed.

She giggles as the nurse comes to her side. She takes her temperature first, in her ear because I am pretty sure her mouth wouldn't be accurate with how much trauma. I stare at her lips for a moment; I can't believe those are the lips that I spent hours kissing. It makes me want to scream.

"Can you rank your pain on a scale of zero to ten for me sweetie?" The nurse asks as she slips a blood pressure cuff around Scarlett's good arm. "Zero being no pain at all and ten being the most pain you could ever imagine having."

"Seven," Scarlett wheezes.

"So an eight?" The nurse counters.

Thank God. We have a nurse that actually understands her.

"So I'm guessing this is Paul," The nurse smiles at me. "She was mumbling your name for hours."

Guilt washes over me like a tsunami.

I should have been here.

I should have been here even when she was out of it and I was torturing that piece of shit. I should have been here.

"Not as cute as you thought he'd be, huh?" Scarlett smiles as much as she can without hurting her mouth, innocently.

"Be quiet over there," I shake my head at her, though I can't help but smile right along with her. How is it that she is the one hurt, yet she is the only one lightening the mood of everyone else around her.

"Alright honey, so the doctor is going to be in here pretty soon to brief you about the surgery. Sound good?"

Scarlett nods.

"Great. Stay off the bed," She points at me.

I hold my hands up and try my best to look innocent, which Scarlett plays a lot better than me, but that probably is because she is so damn innocent.

As soon as she leaves Scarlett falls back onto the bed and closes her eyes. Although she is trying her hardest to hide it, I can see just how much energy it takes her to do the most trivial of actions. Even just being up and talking with me has exhausted her.

"Turn over," I tell her gently, stroking the side of her arm.

Scarlett moans but then does as she is told with a slight groan. I fight a wide smile as her entire back, backside and legs are suddenly exposed right in front of me. I gently tug on the ties and then tie her gown again.

I can't help myself.

I gently tap her ass, her _perfect_ round, beautiful little ass to signal for her to turn over. "All done."

"Hey," She mumbles, though her tone is less than cutting.

I laugh quietly as she turns back onto her back and then closes her eyes. I watch as she takes a deep breath and then winces when the air goes just a little bit too deep.

She opens her mouth to say something but then closes it again. She tries once more before I stop her.

"Just close your eyes and relax until the doctor comes in, alright baby?" I take her hand in mine and then gently kiss a trail of kisses down the side of her hand. "You don't need to worry about talking to me. I'm fine just sitting here."

The corners of her lips pull up just the slightest bit.

"Thank you," She says, her voice quiet.

I kiss her palm as an answer.

About twenty minutes later the doctor comes in, waking her up and annoying me, but at least he was nice about it.

He explained that he was basically going in to attempt to repair some nerve damage but wouldn't know how bad it was until he got in there. He mentioned something about "the amount of glass that was stuck in her skin" and I got lost for a second after that. Why did she have glass in her hand? What the fuck had he done to her? The thought made me sick, but that's nothing new.

Everything that happened to her makes me sick.

The nurse came a little while later and basically just started rolling her down the hallway. I stayed close to the side of the bed as she cuddled into a ball to be transported. As we passed, Nessie and Jacob and Embry and Quil and Sam and Emily and the Cullen's all wished her luck with nervous eyes; Seth, Leath, Jared and Kim had all gone home to shower and get some rest.

I am not sure how I am ever going to thank these people, but then it hits me: I don't think it is for me. The Cullen's don't even know me, and yet they are all here, they are here for _her._ Nessie is Scarlett's best friend, and Embry feels who the hell knows what for her. It strikes me as surprising that I never thought of it this way before, but in the process of me falling in love with her, everyone else did too.

We get into a small prep room before the ER where they hand me some scrubs and basically talk me through the hand-washing procedure. Scarlett can't get over how ridiculous I look, apparently.

"You look so funny," She giggles to herself and then looks away, only to start laughing hysterically again once she looks at me once more.

"Ha, ha," I roll my eyes.

"You do!" She exclaims as two nurses expertly lift her off of the bed and onto the operating table by just picking up a sheet; impressive. "You should see yourself."

"Oh come on," I smile devilishly and then lower my voice. "This is sexy."

"Paul!" Scarlett's eyes widen in horror as she looks around the room. I notice one nurse chuckle but other than that I think she is safe. "You're crazy."

"Alright, honey, we're going to push the sedative through the IV now. Are you ready?" The nurse goes over to her IV and smiles down at her.

Scarlett gulps. "Y-yes."

I reach for her hand and squeeze it. "Scared?"

"No," She answers immediately.

"Okay."

I definitely don't believe her.

The nurse pops a piece open in the wire tubing leading to her wrist. "Alright, Scarlett, can I have you count down from ten?"

Scarlett makes a sound of fear in the back of her throat and looks over at me with frantic eyes.

"You're okay," I tell her, squeezing her hand tighter. "Just breathe. That's all you have to do."

Scarlett nods her head. I pretend like I don't notice the way her eyes are watering.

"Can you count for me, honey?" She pushes.

I want to chuck the table next to me at the woman. _Chill_ , I'm thinking, but I know that she is just doing her job.

"Ten," She begins, her voice shaky. "Nine. Eight. Seven." By the time she gets to six her eyes are basically crossed; damn that stuff works quickly.

"See you on the other side," I whisper to her.

I doubt she even heard me.

* * *

When I enter the waiting room, de-scrubbed and nervous, I hadn't realized how much I needed a break.

I moan and drop down into a chair next to Quil, dropping my head into my hands and then taking a deep breath.

A few seconds pass of silence.

"How is she?" I hear Nessie blurt.

"Renesmee," Jacob scolds. "I told you to leave him alone."

"I couldn't wait any longer!" She whisper yells.

"Fine," I sigh, not picking my head up.

"Just… fine?" She asks after a moment.

"No, not just fine." I pick my head up and then lean back in my seat. "I mean, how fine can a girl who just got the shit beat out of her be? Because that's about how fine she is."

Nessie cringes at the silent blow and then cowers into herself.

I sigh. "Nessie, I'm sorry."

She doesn't look at me.

"Seriously." I go to sit next to her and then nudge her shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay?" I say gently. "I'm just so upset. At him. At what happened to her. At me not being there. I'm just not… stable right now. You have no idea how grateful I am that she has you."

Nessie picks her eyes up and then smiles, just a little bit. "There you go," I grin and sit back in the seat with a sigh. "Don't you go getting all sensitive now, too. I can only handle one Scarlett in my life."

She laughs and then sits up straight again. "Sorry I attacked you with questions."

"You asked one question," I laugh. "Did you know that she apologized to _me?_ " The words come flowing out of me without warning. "I mean, she's lying in a hospital bed about to go into surgery to figure out if she will ever be able to use her hand again, and she is apologizing to _me_."

"Yeah she mentioned something about that," Nessie just barely whispers. "I think she thought because you weren't here when she woke up you were mad at her."

"I think she's psyco."

"Paul," Quil warns.

"In the best way! I mean I love the girl!" I clarify. "I just don't understand how she thinks. Why would she apologize to _me_? I mean, that's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

Nessie shrugs. "She's been going through that for her entire life. I don't think she views it like you do."

I feel sick.

"Ugh," I press my hands to my eyes and shake my head. "I- I don't know what to do… about _him_." The room goes silent. "I told her I wouldn't leave her again," I continue. "But I need to- I need to- I don't know what I need to do."

"He's not worth it," Emily says quietly, coming over to sit next to me. "Sam can take care of it."

I growl deep in the back of my throat. "Not how he deserves it."

"Scarlett's more important than him," Emily speaks gently. "If you go to him you'll be doing it for you, not for Scarlett."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I growl.

"Cool it," Sam declares, reaching for Emily though she pushes his hands away.

"You know it's true, Paul," She continues. "If Scarlett wakes up and you're not there because you're doing whatever you feel you need to do to him, _she_ is the one who is going to be hurt. You've punished him, now let it end. Let Sam end it."

I swallow harshly. I don't want to agree with everything she said, but I know that deep down I really do.

"I can't- I can't- ugh," I moan. "Dead. Sam, dead," I declare suddenly, looking him right in the eye to make sure he understands how serious I am about that.

Sam nods his head once, quickly, but indisputably.

"Does Scarlett want him dead?" Nessie asks quietly.

"I don't care," I speak, my voice holding a venom that I never thought I would ever be capable of.

They don't say anything after that.

And I don't question my decision as Sam walks out of the waiting room and out the exit to do what I know needs to be done.

Now, all there is left to do is wait.

Scarlett's surgery is a lot quicker than I thought it would be, though I am not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. When she is wheeled back in she is still sleeping, and it shocks me just like the first time at how bruised and swollen her face actually is. Not only that, but now she has an oxygen tube hanging underneath her nose.

I stand up nervously to walk into the ro-

"Paul!"

My eyes widen. "Mom?"

"Oh Paul!" My mom comes rushing over to me and wraps me up in a big hug, though she is just a little thing. My mouth drops. How did she even know? God, I swear that woman has like a fifth sense.

"Mom," I gulp. "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean why am I here?" She exclaims. "Scarlett is hurt! Oh, Paul, how is she? Tell me she is okay!" She presses her hand to her heart and I try not to roll my eyes.

I love my mom, I really, really do, but she is definitely not the greatest in dire situations. She is a panicker, and she is also one of the most dramatic women I have ever met.

"She's fine," I try to make my voice as calm and neutral as possible. "She just got out of surgery."

"Surgery!" She exclaims, pressing her palms to the side of her face.

Now I actually do roll my eyes. "Mom," I begin to complain. "No offense, but Scarlett isn't up for visitors now."

"Oh, no! Okay, okay, that's what I thought, don't worry. We brought her flowers. S-Sue! Sue get in here! Jeesh she knows everyone in this damn hospital."

My mouth drops. _We?_ Sue is here now too? As in Sue Clearwater? If Sue Clearwater knows, than I swear the entire world must know.

Mrs. Clearwater comes walking in with two handfulls of flowers so ginormous I can't even make out her face.

"I'll just bring them in for her," She begins, but I quickly scoop them out of her arms.

"Ugh, that's okay. I've got them," I say nervously as I stare wide eyed at the most elaborate and over-done flowers I have ever seen.

"Quil Landon Ateara! Come help me right now! You know I don't like how you never answer that phone of yours!" Mrs. Ateara bursts through the waiting room doors with a huge tray of something that I must admit smells incredible.

"Now everyone, we made pasta and meatballs and some soup for when Scarlett feels better. Is that alright now? Quil could you grab the rest from the car for me?"

"Sue did you bring the cards?"

Cards?

"Right here Mila," Mrs. Clearwater says happily as she hands her a stack of about forty thick, enveloped cards.

"These are from everyone that dropped them off this morning; there are definitely more but you know when you tell people you have to leave at a certain time these people have no sense of other people's time schedules! I mean, it is ridiculous! We give a time and ten after there comes Loretta Forah pulling into the driveway like nothing is wrong!"

"No respect," Sue nods her head slowly.

"Oh it is ridiculous," Mrs. Ateara sighs. "Paul, how is your Scarlett?"

I gulp. "Ugh, she is okay."

"Paul Lahote I need details. Goodness Mila, you'd think the boy was half mute."

I pinch myself. No, not dreaming.

"Eat! Eat up you must be starving. Paul! Paul why aren't you with Scarlett?" My mom asks.

"Good question," I mumble underneath my breath. _Because you women are crazy._ I look down at the dozens and dozens of cards in my hands from my mother's friends, and women that Scarlett doesn't even know.

"You do realize that Scarlett would flip shit if she saw those cards and realized that everyone knew," Nessie whispers out of the corner of her mouth, her eyes just as wide as mine though she has a fake smile on her face.

I smile and speak between gritted teeth. "What the fuck do I do?"

"I'll distract them," She pretends to happily wave at Mrs. Ateara. "You go. Break!"

I quickly trade off the cards and backpedal towards Scarlett's room to slip inside. I wince as I am walking over to my little sleeping beauty. God, those women are loud.

I hear a "shhh" and then hear the room quiet down just a tiny bit. Go Nessie.

I go to sit down in that same chair that always seems to be there. Scarlett's eyes are closed, her body is rising and falling gently and her hair is strewn around her face like a beautiful, satin, white robe.

I have to stop myself from reaching out and stroking her face. How is it possible for her to still be so damn beautiful with her face covered in bruises.

My eyes trail down her body and find themselves resting on her hand. I breathe a breath of relief; well, at least she still has one. There goes her hook joke. The bandaging is so intense and thick I can barely make anything out at all, but the tips of her fingers are just barely recognizable through holes at the tops. I run my fingers down the bandage.

I think back to what Nessie had said about this being different for Scarlett than it is for everyone else. It seems wrong; utterly and entirely and completely wrong that she would accept this in some way, but the truth is that this was her reality; this was her _life._

I gulp and stare unwavering at her. Perhaps the reason that I never was able to understand how her brain works, is because I am expecting it to work just like mine. Perhaps I will never truly be able to understand her, because I will never know how.

"Paul!" The hospital door opens and Nessie Cullen pops her little, annoying head into the room. Her orangish, brown hair practically sparkles due to the light pouring in from the hallway.

She steps into the room with a plate of something in her hands and then holds it out for me. Spaghetti and meatballs.

I smile and take it. With everything that has happened, I can't remember the last time I have eaten.

"You want to know something?" I ask as she has already turned to leave.

She appears taken aback, and I suddenly worry that she thinks I am about to be nasty to her- God Paul, pull your shit together.

"I think you're the one who deserves fifty cards from random old ladies."

Her lips pull up at the corners as she walks out of the room. The door swings shut just as Scarlett begins shifting ever-so slightly.

I immediately set the food on the nightstand and lean forward.

Her eyelashes bat open. She has a confused expression on her face and for some reason I get the impression that she isn't all there. Regardless, I smile widely and lean towards her.

"Welcome back, beautiful," I say.

Scarlett smiles widely. "You stayed."

And then she falls right back to sleep.

* * *

Whew! Okay! Next chapter will be a little more exciting and the details of Scarlett's health will be discussed! Finally we'll hear from Scarlett, too! Let me know what you think:) Thanks for reading!

Follow or favorite if you are new here and review for an update:)


	25. Family

Sorry for the slight wait everyone! ENJOY:)

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Embry try to fucking spoon feed me Jello one more time and see what happens."

Embry's eyes widen as he lowers his "airplane" back down to the plate and then sits back down on the end of the bed.

Two weeks, three surgeries and a few minor, mental breakdowns later, I am so antsy to get the hell out of this hospital room that I have resorted to biting people's heads off.

"I'm sorry," I moan and lie back down against the bed. I pull the covers up to my chin and swallow down the lump in my throat. "I'm so hungry," I moan.

"There's food right here, Scar," Embry says gently.

"I don't want Jello anymore! Or mashed potatoes or soup! I want food! _Real_ food- that's what I want." I start to cry suddenly, not at all out of pain but entirely out of frustration. "And I need a shower!"

"Don't cry, Scar," Embry says gently. "Please? For me?"

I moan. "You can't pull that on me, Embry," I sniffle and sit back up.

"Yes I can," He smiles widely.

"What time is it?" I sigh.

Embry checks his phone. "Two-thirty, why?"

I smile to myself. "Nessie should be here soon. She promised she would sneak me in some contraband like R-rated movies and porn."

"Scarlett!" Embry's cheeks turn red.

"I'm kidding!" I giggle as my cheeks turn red as well. "I'm loopy, remember?"

"You're not even on that many pain meds anymore; you're just a freak."

I hear a knock on the door and then perk up immediately. After a week of my extended stay, I had all but forced everyone to get back to their normal lives which includes work and school, though this is the first day that Paul listened to me and actually went to work.

The door opens and my Paul steps through the doors, looking just as hot as ever, though I haven't been able to reap the benefits at all lately. I stifle a moan at the mere sight of him. My hormones are so repressed I just may explode and wind up on my deathbed again.

"Lahote!" I squeal excitedly. His face breaks out into a wide smile. This was supposed to be his day off. I repress the knowledge that his surprise appearance has a lot to do with who my visitor was going to be all day; Paul has it in his mind that Embry has a thing for me. He thinks that I don't know but I obviously have been able to tell how uncomfortable he gets every time Embry is close to me. I, on the other hand, know that it isn't like that with us. There _is_ something between Embry and I, I can't deny that, but certinaly not romantic, almost like… best friends, but not. It's weird.

Moral of the story: I want to sleep with Paul Lahote, not with Embry.

"What are you doing here?" I ask excitedly.

"Special delivery." Paul drops a big, brown bag into my lap and my senses immediately pick up something greasy. "Just don't tell. And if you get caught Embry gave it to you."

My eyes widen. "You didn't."

"Like I said," He sighs and crosses his arms overtop of his chest. "I have no idea where you got that from."

I open the bag and then pretend to pass out. "Oh my God," I moan. "I love you. I love you. I love you so much."

I pull the wrapped burger out and drop it into my lap. "You even got me fries," I pretend to tear up." Paul laughs. "I think you are an angel."

"An ugly angel," Embry mumbles.

Paul smacks him on the back of his head. I giggle.

I unwrap the packaging and actually moan at the huge, juicy burger sitting right in my lap. I take a huge bite and breathe deeply, trying to keep the stars from forming in my eyes.

"Remember to breathe, champ," Paul pats my knee as I nearly choke on my third bite.

"So, hungry," I manage to get out with my mouth full. "This is definitely not Jello," I pant as I finally get the ginormous bite down. I look up bashfully, suddenly aware of how much of a pig I must look like and smile guiltily.

Paul laughs and urges me on. "You better hurry up if you don't want the nurses to catch you," He winks at me.

I smile widely and nearly choke myself.

"Scar I'm going to get going," Embry sits up. "Get some work in."

I frown and swallow down the last of that decadent burger. "What? But we were going to watch Saw!"

"I can watch Saw with you," Paul speaks quickly.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Embry don't go," I complain, ignoring Paul. "Please?"

"It's okay kid," He ruffles my hair and smiles at me. "I'll get a half day in and then come back tomorrow, sound good?"

I smile excitedly. "Yes!" I cup a hand to my mouth so that I can whisper to him. "Don't forget about the candy for the movie."

"Yeah, you're crazy."

I giggle and lean back in bed. "Thanks for hanging out with me," I squeeze his hand.

I notice Paul watching our movements meticulously.

"Sure, sure," He smiles warmly and then kisses the top of my head.

Paul's jaw tenses.

As soon as Embry leaves I turn on him. "Paul," I complain, practically reeling. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" He feigns innocence, reaching for my hand. I shove his hand away and cross my arms overtop of my chest, ignoring the hurt look that spreads across Paul's face.

"Paul," I complain. "You practically pushed him out of here!"

"Well I'm here now," He frowns. "Why does he need to be here?"

"Ugh, because he literally took off of work today just to hangout with me."

"Yeah, I heard," He rolls his eyes.

"Paul," I speak slowly. "After everything we've been through, do you honestly believe that there is something going on between Embry and I?"

"What?" His eyes bulge. "Of course not! It's not _you_ that I'm worried about."

"You're worried about Embry?" I nearly laugh. "Paul, all that he has done from the moment he found me locked in the bathroom at my house," He cringes, "To about five minutes ago is help me. He's my friend, okay? He's not trying to fight for my affection!"

"You don't know," Paul moans.

"Paul," I look up towards the ceiling in annoyance.

"You don't, Scarlett," He barks back.

I recoil, slightly frightened. Paul sees my fear and his face falls immediately. "I'm sorry baby," He kisses my hand and then kissing up my arm. Paul's lips find my cheek and he kisses me gently there. I moan. I am still too bruised for him to kiss me on the lips yet, but that doesn't mean I don't want it. "Don't be scared of me, please? I was being an idiot."

"Paul," I sigh. "I'm not scared of you. I'm just… upset. Embry has done a lot for me and I don't want you making him feel bad or uncomfortable. You should be thanking him," Paul cringes. "We both should."

He shakes his head adamantly. "Scar if you only knew," He mumbles.

"Than explain it to me," I cross my arms defiantly overtop of my chest. "Explain it to me so that I can understand."

Paul sighs, and for a second he actually seems quite nervous. "I- I don't want you to freak out," He finally says.

I gulp. "Bad?"

His eyes bulge and his picks at his collar. "Not… bad… necessarily."

I moan. "What now?"

He reaches for my hand and squeezes. "It's not bad, Scar. I just know you're going to freak out."

"Usually when you say that you know something is going to freak me out it is worse than bad, Lahote."

"Do you want to know or not?" He sighs.

"Fine. But make it quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid."

"When we're in wolf form we can see and hear what each other are thinking."

Ouch. Okay. That was definitely like a Band-Aid.

"What?" I scream, jumping up in bed.

Paul gasps and jumps back.

"Paul!" I try to pull myself together. "You can read minds?" I exclaim. "You are- you are- you are telepathic? Oh my God! That is so cool! Why didn't you tell me that?"

Paul looks like he has just seen a ghost. "Are you seriously not mad?"

"Mad?" I laugh. "Why would that make me mad?"

He lets out a relieved sigh and then smiles blissfully. "Oh thank God. Fuck, I really thought you were going to be super weird about that. Kim was but Nessie didn't really care, but she is shameless so that kind of makes sense."

"Shameless?" I laugh. "What are you talking ab-," I gasp. All the color and warmth and life drains from my face as my eyes grow so wide I can't see clearly.

" _The entire pack has seen us having sex?_ " I scream.

Paul cringes. "We haven't had sex yet, remember?" He says, like it will somehow make this situation better.

"Oh my God," I moan and cover my face with my hands. "Ouch!" I recoil once I remember that my face is, in fact, a canvas of black and blue. "Oh my fucking God," I cry and roll around so that my back is facing him. "I am so embarrassed. I am mortified. I am never going to be able to look at them ever again."

"It isn't like that, Scar," Paul says softly.

"Don't even talk to me," I bite back.

"Scarlett," Paul rubs my shoulder but I shrug his hand off of me. I hear him sigh. "It's not like we run around replaying us all having sex in our minds, okay? It rarely _ever_ happens, and if it does for a second we immediately think about something else and everyone else tries to tune out as best as they can."

"You said that you think about me all the time when you're a wolf," I moan. A steady stream of all of Paul and I's sexual encounters run through my mind on warped speed. Oh my God. All of the oral, all of the sounds that I made, all of the _dirty talk._ I moan.

"It's really not like what you're thinking."

"How many time have you let it slip?"

"Scarlett," I can hear the wince in his voice."

"Paul!" I cry. "I can't believe you didn't tell me this!"

"It's not my choice either, Scar!" He pleads with me. "I swear to you, it's not like I'm replaying it for them all to see! I'll let a second of it slip every once in a blue moon and we don't even talk about it, we just pretend like it never happened. It's a respect thing, and we all respect you and Nessie and Kim and Emily and,"

I moan so loudly he stops mid-sentence. "What have they seen?"

"Nothing," He answers quickly.

"Don't lie!" I scream.

"They didn't see anything, Scarlett! I swear!"

"I can't believe this!" I cry, actual tears streaming from my eyes out of complete embarrassment.

"Oh fuck. Fuck me. Please, please don't cry Scarlett. Please, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry." He reaches for my arm but I cry harder.

"D-d-don't t-t-touch me," My voice quivers.

"Scarlett," His voice sounds pained.

"I'm so embarrassed," I cry harder.

"No." Paul reaches for my arms and then turns me back over towards him. "No," He repeats, his face calm and focused. "This isn't happening. You're not getting embarrassed or feeling disrespected over this; I'm not letting it happen. I love you, okay? I love you." He gently cups my face in his hands as I try to swallow down the rest of my tears. "This is just a stupid werewolf thing. I promise that I don't think about you like that when I am a wolf. You're perfect and you're mine. Mine _only_. And what we do when we're alone together is for my eyes only. Got it?"

I nod sadly.

"Good." His eyes soften. "Now stop crying. I made a decision that you are never allowed to cry again."

I try to laugh though my tears obstruct my vision. "You should have told me," I speak softly. "Before we… did anything."

He smiles sadly and kisses the top of my head. "I'm sorry. I really am. The only thing I had to go off of was advice from the other guys." I cringe at him discussing this with them. "Sam didn't tell Emily until years later, and at that point she was comfortable enough with everyone and with her and Sam's relationship that it didn't really bother her. Jared told Kim before they, you know, and Kim was so freaked out that it took her _years_ to get comfortable enough with it. Nessie smacked Jacob and threatened him with physical harm if he let anything slip and then was fine."  
I giggle at the thought; I can't help myself.

Paul smiles and runs his fingers through the sides of my hair. "I just thought that for _you_ , it would have been easier if I waited to tell you. You're so," He smiles widely, "Innocent." I blush. "And sweet. And easily embarrassed. I knew that if I told you before the possibility would be all that you would think about and then you would get in your own head and be too nervous to actually make your own decisions."

I nod my head slowly; his logic actually makes a lot of sense. If I had known before, I probably never would have done _anything_ with Paul for the rest of my life. Seriously, I would be 95 and contemplating sleeping with him.

"Well," I let out a long breath. "Now that I'm not leaving you anymore,"

Paul appears taken aback. "You were contemplating leaving me?"

"Definitely," I lie. "Would you touch me? Like, bad touch me? Please?"

Paul bursts out laughing and I cross my arms tightly overtop of my chest. "You're embarrassing me!" I complain. "And now everyone is going to see that!"

Paul shakes his head. "No one is going to see that. Are you horny, baby girl?"

I gasp. "Paul!"

"What?" He laughs. He takes my hand in his and then kisses my skin tenderly. I take a deep breath. "You're the one who used that word before I ever did."

"That is a complete lie," I laugh. "I would never say that."

He runs the backs of his fingers gently up and down my arm. I accidentally let a sound of longing out of the back of my throat as he smiles against my skin.

"Yes you did," He kisses my fingers. "The first night you were in here. I woke you up and you told me that you were horny, several times actually."

I gasp. "Did not!"

"Yes you did," He laughs. "You were loony and out of it and still all you could think about was sex. Figures."

"Hey!" I laugh and try to pull my hand away though he holds onto it tightly and kisses my palm.

"Don't get embarrassed," He smiles widely at me. "I miss you too."

I giggle nervously and attempt to bite the center of my lip before I remind myself that I would be in way too much pain if I even tried that. "Paul, I feel like I am about to explode." I feel my face heat up.

He kisses up my arm and I sigh frustratingly. "When?"

Paul laughs. "After you're out of the hospital, sweetheart."

"No fun," I huff. "What if I don't make it that long?" I ask, sheepishly.

"You could always just help yourself out a little bit?" He suggests softly, kissing my hand.

"What?" I gasp, a nervous giggle immediately escaping from my lips.

"You're allowed to touch yourself, Scarlett," He smiles widely.

"Paul!" I exclaim, my face practically turning into a tomato. Paul laughs and starts fanning my face.

"I could tell you what to do if you don't know how," He tells me gently.

I gasp and close my eyes. "Please stop talking," I nearly choke on pure and entire embarrassment.

He laughs. "I could, sweetheart. You don't have to be embarrassed."

"Paul," I moan. "I don't want to touch myself. I want _you_ to touch me."

"Right now?" He asks.

My eyes grow wide. I am just barely able to nod my head.

Paul bursts out laughing just as the nurse comes in for rounds. My cheeks heat up right before both of their eyes as Paul sits up. "Alright, if you really meant right now." His hand moves towards the sheet as the nurse greets me and reaches for my other wrist.

I gasp and slap his hand away.

"H-hi," I giggle anxiously. He wouldn't, would he?

"Hi Scarlett," She smiles warmly. "Paul," She turns to him.

"Hi Stella! How's your day today? Anyone puke on you yet?" He leans back in his seat and I breathe a breath of relief.

"Not yet but the day is still young!" She smiles and pats my shoulder. "Hey, I have some good news for you today."

"You're letting me out of this hell-hole?" I perk up.

"No," She laughs. "But maybe soon. The doctor is coming in today to take a look at your hand and hopefully he will okay you to get the boot!"

"I am not going to let myself get hopeful," I nod my head and take a deep breath as Paul squeezes my hand. Over the past two weeks I have confronted and pushed away the idea that my hand could be too damaged for any movement. I tried to imagine myself living life with one hand, and it just upset me so much that I pushed it out of my mind and just decided that I would deal with it as it came.

"He'll be in shortly, hun," Stella says, patting my leg. "And if I were you, I would get rid of that food before he comes in if you want any hope of leaving here early."

I gasp and throw the bag at Paul that I completely forgot about.

"He did it!"

"Hey!" Paul complains. "Embry did, remember?"

Stella laughs as she leaves the room.

At the mention of Embry, I am reminded about a conversation that we never actually got to finish. "Hey, wait, so this whole pack mind-reading-seeing thing, what does this have to do with Embry again?"

Paul moans. "I was hoping you would let that drop."

"Not a chance."

Paul lets out a long sigh. "Well, when he's in wolf form, he thinks about… you."

I blink. "What do you mean he thinks about me? I think about him sometimes too."

"Not like how you think about him," Paul moans. "He- he, he thinks about- I really didn't want to tell you this. It's not really fair to Emb."

I purse my lips. "Just give me a general idea."

"He thinks about you, like, like for example: He thinks about you on the beach putting sunscreen on your legs. Things like that."

My eyes widen. "Really?" I breathe.

"Yeah," Paul sighs. "See?"

I shrug. "Y-yeah. I mean, I don't want to judge him off of his thoughts. He hasn't ever been… suggestive or anything. It's not really fair to be pissed at him for the thoughts that he would usually keep to himself."

Paul's jaw tenses. "Yeah I know. That's why I've been trying to keep it cool."

I can't help but laugh. "Is this you keeping it cool then?"

"Yes," He answers adamantly. "If any other guy obviously liked you so much, I would be a crazy person."

I giggle. "Well half my high school has slept with you, where does that leave me? What would you do if the roles were reversed?"

I mean my question innocently, honestly curious, though Paul seems to take it as an invisible blow. "I- I wouldn't be able to handle- I- Scarlett I love you no matter what, okay. I'm sorry about all that shit. It was stupid."

I shrug. "It's okay Paul. I don't judge you for it."

"I know," He sighs. "Sometimes I just don't feel like I deserve you. You're so… pure. You saved yourself and I definitely didn't. You're just so, good, Scarlett."

I smile shyly. "You're good too, Paul."

"Nothing like you."

I yawn and Paul sits back in his seat with a sigh. "Is it about time for your hourly nap?"

"Shut up," I moan. "I think they do this to me on purpose, you know."

"And why would that be?" Paul laughs.

"I don't know," I yawn. "Feel free to touch me in my sleep. Maybe I'll wake up with some relieved tension."

"You are such a bad girl, Scarlett," Paul growls and nibbles on my finger. I giggle and pull it away quickly.

"Will you wake me up when the doctor comes in?" I close my eyes.

"Of course," He answers softly.

"Okay."

"Okay." Paul kisses my hand.

The next thing I know I am being gently coaxed awake by Paul who is calling my name softly. I mumble and he stops me from rubbing my eyes, which he always does.

"Hello miss Scarlett," The surgeon who has been heading the operations on my hand for the past couple of weeks.

"Hi," I mumble, my voice coarse and dry. Though my voice is constantly a little bit deeper and hoarse now, my doctor assured me that in time my vocal cords would heal and my voice would be back to normal. My hand, on the other hand, is still questionable.

"So I'm just going to take the dressing off and check it out." He reaches for my hand and starts unwrapping it without asking for permission, which is a start contrast to Stella, my favorite nurse.

He carefully pulls it apart as Paul helps me sit up by lifting me by my shoulders. Paul kisses me on the cheek quickly before sitting back down next to me. I breathe a sigh of relief; I feel as though I can do anything when Paul is next to me.

"Alright, let's see here," The doctor lets out a long breath. I cautiously look over at my hand and then gasp. My left hand is covered in stitches. There are long scars reaching down both sides of my hand and even trailing down to my wrist. I pull my hand out of his grasp and hold it up in front of my face, my mouth open as it takes in the damage.

I hadn't realized I started to cry until I feel Paul gently touch his fingers to the tops of my cheeks. "Hey," He says gently. "It's okay. It looks much better, Scar! Really!"

I stare down at my destroyed hand and hold my sobs in. Paul is just trying to make me feel better, though it is making the situation slightly worse.

"Compared to what this looked like," The doctor pulls my hand back into his lap. "You're lucky it still resembles a hand at all."

"Yeah, thanks man," Paul says suddenly, his voice gruff and annoyed.

The doctor appears taken aback for a moment before he clears his throat. I must admit, _that_ made me feel just a little bit better. "Scarlett, I'm going to have you hold this up yourself," The doctor lets go of my hand and I hold it in the air. "What I touch a finger I want you to try to move it, okay?"

I nod my head, suddenly absolutely terrified.

He touches his pen to my pointer finger but I don't move. I don't try.

"Try to move it now," The doctor says again.

Still nothing.

The hope in the room dwindles like a flame.

"I-it's okay, Scar. Who needs a left hand, anyways? And I'm sure with physical therapy you could-,"

Suddenly, I squeeze my hand together, as tightly as I can, ignoring the pain that radiates down my arm. My mouth drops in surprise. Yes. _Yes!_

"Woah!" The doctor says, grabbing my hand and scolding me with his eyes. "That's quite enough."

I smile brilliantly and then look over at Paul who has a sparkle behind his eyes that makes me want to giggle, and suddenly I am.

"Sorry doc," I say, though I am not at all; I wasn't about to test out every single finger to try to figure out what works and what doesn't. That would take _way_ too long.

"Okay Scarlett, you seen to be healing nicely," He sighs. I stifle a laugh at how obviously annoyed he is at me for ignoring his directions. "You're strength will get better as you continue to heal. I'm quite impressed how you seem to have entire range of motion." I beam. "I'm going to wrap this back up and I only want it taken off once a week when you come in for checkups, got it?" He eyes me suspiciously.

My eyes widen. "Does that mean…"

"I will start on your discharge papers after my rounds."

"Oh thank God!" I moan and drop back in bed with my newly wrapped hand.

He pats my arm and then shakes Paul's hand before leaving.

As soon as he is gone Paul breaks out into dance, I mean literal, actual, completely embarrassing dancing. I laugh uncontrollably as he jokingly attempts to twerk and then he laughs and comes back over to me.

"This is great," He sweeps a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Yes." I smile. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but where am I going to go? I mean, I know that my aunt is no longer an option," I roll my eyes. Nessie had spent days on the phone trying to get in contact with her after the attack. Finally, she managed to reach her and not her assistants, though she honestly could have cared less what happened to Scarlett. In fact, she responded the opposite way, and kicked Scarlett out for causing so much "drama" and "stress" on her, which resulted in Nessie calling her every cuss word I could think up in my entire body before she told her to go to hell and hung up.

"Currently I am homeless," I giggle.

"You're not homeless," Paul laughs. "You'll move in with me!"

My mouth drops. My immediate response is no- hell no. No way at all. I love Paul; I love him more than anything in the world, but I am not ready to _live_ with him yet. Though, the way he is smiling and the hopeful expression in his eyes makes it impossible for me to break his heart.

I swallow down my worries and nod my head, plastering a smile on my face.

He smiles and kisses my hand right as his phone buzzes in his pocket. "Shit," He says once he pulls up a text. "I have to finish this up a day early I guess," He moans.

"Go," I urge him. "Please! I'm fine here."

He frowns. "You'll be alone."

I nearly remind him that the only reason I will be alone is because of the stunt he pulled with Embry, but I choose to ignore that fact. "No I won't," I reassure him. "Nessie will be here any minute, promise."

Paul looks uneasy. "Promise?"

I smile widely. "Promise."

"Okay." He nods his head, seeming to convince himself, and then stands up slowly. Paul dips his head to my ear and kisses the skin right in front of it oh, so slowly. My breath becomes uneven. "I can't wait until I can taste you again."

My mouth drops.

He pulls away and walks away watching me.

I think I may faint.

As soon as he closes the door behind him I hear him burst out laughing.

"Ugh!" I throw a nearby pillow at the door. "So not funny!"

* * *

"Hey Scar," Nessie pops her head into the room and I sit up immediately, hitting pause on Saw 2 right away.

"Hey!" I usher her inside.

"You started without me?" She pouts. "You promised!" Nessie crosses her arms and actually stomps her foot into the ground.

I giggle and roll my eyes. "I've been alone for four hours since Paul left! You were the one who was supposed to be here sooner!"

"I know," She moans. "Family meeting. Speaking of, my parents are here and want to talk to you, is that cool?"

My throat immediately tightens. "About what?"

"Relax you're not in trouble." Nessie tries to make light of the situation though I notice the way she makes her voice more gentle. She knows that the only "conversations" I ever had with my parents were less lovey and more violent.

"Fine," I swallow. I sit up straight and then close my laptop and set it on the side table. I try to brush the wrinkles out of my sheets to no avail. Before I know it, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen are walking through the doors leading into my room.

"Hi Scarlett," Mrs. Cullen speaks gently. "How are you feeling?" She comes over to give me a small hug and I hug her back.

Nessie's family hasn't been necessarily here all that much, but they have been far from absent. They seemed to handle _everything_ from scheduling my surgeries and making sure my insurance was covered and my bills were paid to cleaning up my aunts house. They have done more than I can ever thank them for.

"I'm great, actually," I smile widely. "You can all stop with the one-hand jokes behind my back because this baby is almost as good as new!"

"That's great!" Mrs. Cullen laughs.

"That's wonderful," Mr. Cullen nods his head and gives me a brief side hug. I stiffen on instinct, though I try to cover it up. I can't help it; dads are not an area of comfortableness for me.

"Y-yeah," I take a deep breath. "I just got discharged, too! Well, I'm going to be, but the doctor just told me."

"Parentals, again you have perfect timing," Nessie rolls her eyes as she sits down in bed next to me.

I giggle. "What?"

"Alice," Mrs. Cullen giggles.

I try to laugh along with them but I am way too confused. Did I miss something?

"So Scarlett," Mrs. Cullen begins, both her and her husband taking a seat close to the bed. "We have been thinking."

"Which is never good," Nessie pipes in.

I giggle as she rests the side of her head on my shoulder.

Mrs. Cullen playfully narrows her eyes at her. "Over the last few months of having you around we all just want you to know how much we enjoy being with you and how grateful we are that our daughter has such a great friend."

"Oh," I swallow down a lump in my throat. Jesus, why am I crying all the time- get it together, Scarlett! I notice Mr. Cull's lip twitch up. "T-thank you. That's, really sweet."

"Actually, Scarlett, what I'm trying to do, is ask if you would like to spend the rest of your time in high school living with us?"

My heart stops. "What?" I breathe, complete disbelief slipping between my lips.

"Of course you would have your own space," Mrs. Cullen continues. "We have a room for you in the main house that is secluded so that you and Nessie would have your prvacy, and then of course you would be completely welcome to any other area of our home."

"What my wife is trying to say," Mr. Cullen smiles down at her sweetly. "Is that our home would become your home. We're not just offering you a place to stay, Scarlett; we're offering you a family."

My mouth drops. A sound cracks out of the back of my throat but nothing comes out. I look from side to side frantically, half certain that I am dreaming or that this is some sort of joke or I am hearing them wrong.

"You're not dreaming, Scarlett, "Mr. Cullen laughs.

I raise my eyebrows at him. How had he known I was thinking that?

"I-I- I don't know what to say," I finally manage to get out.

"You don't have to say anything, at least not right now," Mrs. Cullen pats my hand.

"Of course you're not expected to say yes. It is your decision," Mr. Cullen clarifies.

"Ugh, yeah she does," Nessie scoffs. "I've wanted a sister for about my whole life and Aunt Alice and Aunt Rose already redecorated the guest bedroom for her."

I giggle though her parents both scold her. "Of course, there are a few… tribulations that my wife and I would like you to be aware of," Mr. Cullen smiles gently. "Nothing bad, don't worry."

"I wasn't worried," I mumble.

"Rules," Nessie clarifies for me. "Like, don't stay out too late and don't go getting pregnant."

"Renesmee Cullen!" Mrs. Cullen pops up. "That is enough young lady!"

She smiles guiltily though I giggle. "What my daughter was _trying_ to get at," Mr. Cullen shakes his head at her. "Is that as a… daughter to us, you will be held to the same standards as Renesmee. Of course there will be a curfew, and schoolwork comes before any extracurriculars."

"He means Paul," She clarifies with a nod of her head.

"And we would like to sit down with Paul and you, as we did with Jacob and Renesmee, and discuss certain boundaries and relationship goals."

My eyes grow wide.

"Trust me, the experience is _just_ as mortifying as it sounds," Nessie shakes once as she remembers.

My mouth parts. "Um,"

"We realize that this is probably a lot for you, honey," Mrs. Cullen says.

I clear my throat. 'Ugh, w-well, w-would I have to call you mom or?" My voice is slightly higher than normal, coming out more of a squeak.

Mrs. Cullen smiles. "You can call us whatever you would like."

"Why?" I blurt finally.

"What is your question, Scarlett?" Mr. Cullen asks gently as he examines me, for what I do not know.

I have a unscatter my thoughts to come up with one single question. "So, you want to… adopt me?"

"Yes," Mrs. Cullen seems genuinely relieved that I finally understand.

"Without the paper trail, of course," Mr. Cullen adds with a laugh.

"Why?" I ask again.

Mr. Cullen smiles. "Because we all love you."

"Okay," I gulp. "And Sam and Emily love me too, but they're not jumping at the chance to adopt me. I-I'm sorry, this is so generous but… too generous. I- I can't accept this. I- I can't just impede on your family."

"It's not impeding," Mrs. Cullen leans forward to take my hand. "Quite the contrary, to be exact."

"What?" I feel like I may faint.

"You see," Mrs. Cullen sighs and then looks at her husband. "In order for you to understand, we need to give you certain, details about our family that you are not aware of yet."

I gulp. "What now?"

"This may freak you out," Mr. Cullen says, a sly smile on his face.

I scrunch my eyebrows at him. The way he said that, it was almost like he was imitating what Paul had said only moments earlier; almost like he was making a joke out of it. But he couldn't have known what Paul told me, could he?

"We're vampires!" Nessie blurts.

I freeze.

"Renesmee," Mr. Cullen moans.

"Wh-what?" I gasp, jumping up a little bit and angling myself away from Nessie. Only, when I angle myself away from Nessie I find myself leaning towards her parents, which causes another panic and makes me lean back towards Nessie, only to jump towards her parents, as the cycle never ends.

Nessie giggles. "Are you scared or something? Actually you're looking pretty delicious right now I just might..."

"Renesmee!" Mrs. Cullen gasps. "That's enough! She's turning white!"

"Oh, no," I struggle with my words as I blink multiple times in a row. "This-t-t-this is just how I get when I hear crazy t-things l-like my best friend is a vampire and my werewolf is a boyfriend or oh I- my boyfriend is a werewolf."

I am seeing stars.

"Are you- are you going to be okay?" Mrs. Cullen asks nervously.

"I think she's fine," Mr. Cullen responds with a small laugh.

"Totally fine," Nessie giggles. "She's good with weird."

"No _I'm_ good with weird," Mrs. Cullen mumbles. "Scarlett looks like she is about to pass out."

"That always happens," I mumble, my vision blacking at the corners. "I- I- I think I need to lie down," I barely get out as I fall back against the bed, though, two, cold hands catch my back and lower me down in the hospital bed.

A few minutes later I come to.

"Scarlett, Scarlett?" I hear the echo of Mrs. Cullen's voice. "Are you okay, honey?"

I bat my eyelashes open and get a blurry vision of Mrs. Cullen and Mr. Cullen standing above me.

"Renesmee, would you get a cold towel for her face," I hear Mrs. Cullen ask, her voice completely back to normal now.

"No way," She sighs. "I'm over your dramatics woman! Pull yourself together."

"Gee, Nessie," I roll my eyes and sit back up, entirely fine. "I'm sorry I wasn't expecting you to be a freaking vampire."

"That's half-vampire to you!" She reprimands me.

"Ugh, excuse me?"

"My mom and my dad fell in love when my dad was a vampire and my mom was a human- very creepy I know, you should hear Jacob tell the story of it, and then they got married and she got pregnant because _surprise_ vampires can get humans pregnant and then long story short I almost killed my mom but my dad bit her, which is how you become a vampire by the way, right after I was born and here she is today- totally immortal!"

"Immortal!" I gasp. "You mean- you- you- you- you _never_ age?"

"Nope," Nessie says happily.

"But that's, that's," My mind immediately flashes to Jacob and how he is _already_ older than Nessie. "That's terrible," I nearly cry. "Jacob…" My voice trails off.

Nessie looks at me funny. "You do realize that the werewolves don't age either, right?"

I gasp. "What?"

"Does Paul tell you anything?" She moans in frustration.

"B-b-b," Panic begins rising in my body, my throat, my everything. No. No. I can't be some 95 year old woman when Paul is still him. No. No! This is why he didn't tell me, he _knew_ that it would break my heart. I burst into tears right before Renesmee and both of her parents.

"Scarlett," Mr. Cullen leans forward and takes my hand. "Scarlett breathe, darling. They begin aging when they decide to stop shifting. Paul will start aging again when he chooses."

"Wh-wh-what?" I manage to get out as I swipe at my blurry eyes.

"The wolves don't shift for their entire lives. Usually they remain as werewolves until they are ready to start families, and then when they disassociate with the pack and discontinue shifting from their human forms, their ability fades and they become mostly human again."

"I- I, so Paul can age?"

"Of course," Mr. Cullen squeezes my hand. "He probably will decide to once you get close enough to his age. And because Nessie is im-," He stops before he says "immortal" again and freaks me out. "Frozen, Jacob will always shift, so that they can be together for a long, long, long, _long_ time."

I let myself calm down and then rest my back against the bed once more. "You guys probably should have told me that first."

"My bad," Nessie giggles.

"So you guys don't age," I clarify.

"No," Mr. Cullen responds.

The conversation skips a beat. "Ever?"

"Never," He laughs.

"And the werewolves aren't aging right now because they're… werewolves, but once they decide they don't want to be wolves anymore they will stop, shifting and become human?"

"Ding ding!" Nessie hugs my side. "You _are_ smart! And you're going to be my sister, right?"

My mouth opens but no words come out. "I- I mean, it's so nice, like so, so, so, so nice but,"

"Hang on," Mr. Cullen holds up his finger and then pulls Mrs. Cullen to his side. I suddenly realize why they look so young, they are literally only a few years older than their daughter. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Scarlett, but I still need to explain certain aspects of my family that may help you to understand."

I gulp and nod my head. I don't think I can handle much more.

"Carlisle, Renesmee's grandfather, is the one who started this family. He was a doctor, and he would find people who were injured, or in need of help, or in some cases such as Alice, they would find him, and he began to create a family; a family of vampires with morals, you can say. Have you at all wondered in the short time you've known what we eat?"

My eyes widen. "Eat?" I squeak.

"Animals," Mrs. Cullen clarifies quickly. "We only eat animals, Scarlett."

"Yeah because we choose to live like that," Nessie adds, suddenly more serious. "We need blood to survive but we would never hurt anyone."

"Exactly," Mr. Cullen is beaming with pride for his daughter. It makes my heart ache just a little bit. _I could have that_ , I think. Mr. Cullen smiles at me. "So you see, our family is kind of a mismatch of all different people who are _good_. Every one of my siblings, Nessie's aunts and uncles, are adopted, Scarlett, so it is about time Bella and I adopted one of our own."

I have no idea what to say.

This is still kind, but finally I understand. The Cullen's are going to live forever, _forever_. Though the longevity of my life would definitely be important to me, it is just a tiny percentage of their entire existence.

"You're freaking vampires?" I suddenly start laughing.

"Oh and another rule," Mr. Cullen clears his throat. "Foul language is completely unacceptable."

"Oh sorry. What would happen if I used it?"

He raises his eyebrows at me.

"Not saying that I will, I mean, I will follow the rules 100% I swear it! But I'm just wondering if I happened to be like 10 minutes late to curfew or something, what would happen?" I giggle, suddenly giddy; I have never had actual parents before that would punish me like normal people. The thought is surprisingly intriguing.

Mr. Cullen laughs gently to himself. "Well there would probably be a discussion where we would discuss the reason for the infraction and then go from there. You would most likely be grounded from Paul for a short while, though," He winks at his daughter. "Those punishments always seem to work best with Renesmee."

"Evil," Nessie mutters underneath her breath. "Wait!" She suddenly perks up. "Does that mean you'll do it?" Her voice softens. "You want to be my sister?"

"Of course I want to be your sister!" I laugh. "I just… can I talk to Paul first? This is all just, amazing, entirely amazing but… a lot."

"We completely understand," Mrs. Cullen says softly. "Please take all the time you need."

"I- I don't think I need time. I think I would love to- to- to,"

"Be apart of our family?" Mr. Cullen finishes gently.

I blush. "Yes. I just need to talk to Paul and just, talk about it before I go telling everyone."

"Talk to Paul," Nessie rolls her eyes and then pretends to puke. "Whatever loser."

I roll my eyes. "You have problems."

"Now you're related to me so, so do you!" She squeals and hugs me just a little bit too tight. I gasp and her grasp immediately loosens. "Sorry!" She exclaims.

"It's okay," I wheeze.

"So, do I have to become a vampire for this deal to work or?" I ask hesitantly.

All three of them seem to find this ridiculously hysterical. "No, of course not," Mrs. Cullen covers her mouth and shakes her head at the ground. "I think we can all agree that the only stipulation to this is that you _remain_ human."

I giggle. "Done. I don't really know how to do much else."

"Hey, you want to watch Saw now? I got the new one." Nessie's eyes widen in a devilish grin as she holds up the newest Saw movie that just came out in theaters.

"How did you get this?" I gasp and grab it out of her hands.

"I believe the question is, 'How did you get this in 3D?'" She raises her eyebrows at me three times and then flashes some 3D glasses at me.

"You rock!" I exclaim and grab a pair.

"Mind if we join?" Mrs. Cullen asks excitedly. "I love a good horror movie."

"No mother," Nessie moans.

"Of course!" I say at the same time.

Nessie and I both widen our eyes and look at each other. I am slightly worried that I just overstepped my boundaries; that I ruined the best thing that possibly ever happened to me in three seconds, when Nessie suddenly narrows her eye at me and points her finger.

"Finally!" She exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air and settling into my side for the movie as her parents pull the couch against the wall next to the bed and settle in. "I was in need for some good competition for favorite kid; it is exhausting being fawned over all the time. I need a break every once in a while!"

I giggle and sit back in my bed. Nessie ignores my laptop in which we usually watch our movies and goes over to use the TV across the room Mrs. Lahote had found in her attic and forced Paul to bring to me. She pops the move in and then hits the lights.

As the movie begins, I can't help myself from biting the center of my lip to fight a smile.

This can't be my life. It _can't._ But suddenly it is. It is and you know what?

I really think I deserve it.

* * *

Okay, dying to know what everyone thinks about Scarlett joining the Cullen's! Hopefully it's not too cliche, but it's been my plan from the beginning so I think it works:)

I shall update soon- please follow, favorite and review! THANKS for reading!


	26. The Imprint

Hi everyone! I firstly wanted to say how grateful I am for all of your support and even for the fact that you just sit down and invest yourself into my story! I really put my heart into every chapter to make it something that you all will love! That being said, I was super surprised by how many people disliked the idea of Scarlett moving in with the Cullen's. I just want to write a story that you all love, so I went back and re-read my story, and kind of changed my mind on a few things, and got back on track with where I want the story to go.

So, I want you guys to know that I really do take what you say to heart and only want to make you all happy! But I do need to go with my gut and write what I know is best for this story. All that I ask is that you guys trust me enough to believe me when I say that write a story that is Scarlett-Paul centered and I promise I will never steer from that.

SO, I really am sorry for how long it took me to post this chapter! I wrote three different versions before I reread the story and went with my gut. Here is the finished product, and I really hope you like it! Love you all! xoxo

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I am a bursting ball of nerves.

Last night seemed like such a great idea, with Renesmee and her parents and I all watching movies and being a family and basically being as cookie-cutter as two vampires, one half-vampire and one abuse victim could get.

Yet I woke up this morning to a good morning call from Paul and the realization that I said that I accepted two different offers to live with people. And the truth is, now that I am alone, I have no idea whom I would rather live with.

Paul is sweet. Paul is kind and courteous and quite honestly my favorite person in the world. Not only that, but Paul is my best friend. I _love_ Paul. As scary as it seems to live with him, I know that it would turn out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me.

The Cullen's, on the other hand, offer me something entirely, and I mean _entirely_ different. The Cullen's want to be my _parents_. They want to give me a curfew and tell me what to do and keep tabs on Paul and I's relationship.

Basically, I start early on married life or go back to being a middle-schooler. The two extremes are making my head spin. Even the thought of going back on my word and telling either of them that I changed my mind makes me want to vomit. I care about them all so much; I don't want to hurt any of them.

My phone buzzes and I pick it up with a shaky hand.

Paul again.

Goodness. He is making it _extremely_ hard to avoid him.

 _Still have PT apt this morning? I can stop by before work_

I moan as a wash of guilt suddenly flows through my body. I hate lying to him so much is makes me physically ill, but I can't see him. I can't tell him I won't live with him and I can't tell him I will; my hands are tied.

 _Yeah. Later? Love you a lot._

I bite my lip.

 _A lot a lot._

I know I may be over-doing it, but I just can't stop myself.

 _Like A LOT._

His response is immediate.

 _I love you too, haha!_

"Ugh!" I slam my phone down on the bed and rub my face with my hands, secretly wanting the pain that comes with pressing into my bruises because quite honestly I deserve this right now. Paul is the best. The Cullen's are the best. Everyone is the best except for me.

I am the worst.

"Scarlett?" I hear a knock at the door and a female voice.

Oh no.

If this is Mrs. Cullen I think I may just have to crawl into a hole and never come out. To my luck, somehow God still loves me even though I am an idiot because Emily Uley's head pops into the room and I am finally able to breathe a breath of relief.

"Emily!" I smile happily.

"Hi honey," She smiles in that warm, mothering way that only Emily can. "Sam and I are here; can we come in?"

"Of course!" I practically jump up at the offer. If any two people are going to be able to help me figure out what to do, they would be Emily and Sam. Though Sam is the least "warm," emotionally speaking, member of Paul's pack, he is kind. Serious but ridiculously kind. And Emily is everything that Sam is not. She is warm and inviting and you look at her and suddenly want to spill your guts and your life story and before you know it you are sobbing in your hospital bed with sneaked in ice cream while watching Nicholas Sparks movies on repeat- trust me, it actually happened.

"Hey hun," Sam smiles at me as he steps in the room behind Emily and they both come to sit next to me.

"Hey Sam!" I smile happily. "Is Paul behaving himself?"

"I don't know, is he?" He raises his eyebrows at me. "If he isn't you know I'll make him pay for it."

I laugh and blush. The only positive to my bruises is that it makes my blush nearly impossible to see. "No, he is a perfect gentleman."

"Are we talking about the same Paul Lahote?" Emily mumbles.

I giggle. "What are you guys doing here?" I ask with a wide smile as if to not come off as rude. I genuinely am happy that they are here.

"Well," Emily looks over at Sam with a small smile and then squeezes his hand.

I scrunch my forehead together and look between the two of them. What is going on?

"So, Scarlett," Emily begins, rather shy. I gulp. I really can't handle anything more right now. "We've been thinking," She giggles and then Sam runs his hand along her arm. "We know that you're being discharged soon and have been going back and forth about this. You know that we love you, and we really, really do, you know that right?"

Time skips a beat before I finally nod my numb head.

"Well we do," Emily smiles. "Very much. And, we understand that we may not be as close to you, but that is because we're a lot older than the rest of the couples. And, because of that, we really think that if you would like, we could give you a stable, steady home life."

My eyes widen.

"We would like you to live with us," Sam clarifies strongly.

I blink.

"And we know that Paul is planning on you moving in with him, but I just thought that in case you wanted your own space, we would love for you to move in with us."

"And of course we wouldn't be trying to be your parents," Sam adds. I think I may be dreaming. "You've been through hell and back, and you're hell of a lot stronger than I think either of us even realize. You don't need to be told what to do, but, we do think that our house may be a safety net for you; a home for you when you would like."

"And really great food too!" Emily pipes in, excitement evident in her life.

Their laughs finally snap me back into reality. "Oh, Em," I look at her and try to convey how sincere I am about how grateful I am for their offer, and how sorry I am that I just can't accept it. "Sam," I smile a small smile at him. "That is so nice. I- I don't know what to say."

"Yes!" Emily smiles widely at me. "Say yes!"

"But- Emily I- I am so, so grateful." I look between Sam and Emily. "You have no idea how grateful I am, but, I just, I can't upheave your life like that, and I already have,"

"I know what you're going to say." Emily holds her hands up to stop me mid-sentence. _Ugh, I highly doubt that._ "And you're not intruding." She looks nervously at Sam and then leans forward. "Scarlett, we haven't told anyone this yet, but… I'm expecting."

"Expecting?" I repeat blandly, looking between the two of them entirely confused.

"A baby," Emily giggles.

"Oh." I scrunch my eyebrows together. "A baby… _A baby?_ " I finally gasp. " _You're pregnant?_ Oh my God! _Oh my God!_ Em, I'm so happy for you! I'm so happy for both of you!"

She giggles as I reach out and hug her. Sam just nods at me, never having been much of a hugger.

"And this is why I want you there," She smiles warmly. "I know that being pregnant I am going to need some help around the house. I'm not going to put you to work or anything, but it would be great to always have someone around. And when the baby comes, it would be incredible to have you around to be a sort of big-sister to him or her. A family." She blushes.

Shit.

"I really think this will be great. Will you trust me?"

"Em, I," I begin to shake my head.

"You're not intruding! I swear, Scarlett. Not at all! It would help me more than anything, promise."

Now I swear… I _swear_ I have no idea how this happened, but suddenly I am nodding my head and forcing a smile on my face and telling myself over and over and over again that this is the best thing.

But it is, isn't it?

Emily is pregnant; she is pregnant and she will need help with things around the house and though I know she would never ask for it I would be more than happy to wake up in the middle of the night and give her a break every once in a while.

Not only that, but this seems to be a nice middle to the offer of complete parental control to moving in with my boyfriend.

The more that I think about it, the more that I convince myself that I can actually spin this, and surely both Paul and the Cullen's would understand if I explained the situation with the pregnancy, if Emily would be comfortable with it, of course.

They stay for a little while longer, as Emily excitedly tells me about the guest bedroom that is just far enough away from the babies room so that he or she wouldn't wake me up in the middle of the night by crying. She tells me about how I could decorate it however I want and Paul could be over however often I wished, because all the pack is over there all the time anyways, and suddenly I am seeing myself living with Sam and Emily.

When they leave I am convinced that this is the perfect arrangement, and somewhat relieved, too.

I pick up my phone to text Paul but then drop it with a small smile. I feel as if I could explain this best in person, and now that the nervous tension is gone I don't feel the need to pick up my phone and tell him my decision immediately.

Not even an hour and two nurse's visits later, I hear Mrs. Lahote barreling through the waiting room demanding countless acts from all of the hospital staff.

I am laughing even before she barges into my room.

"Hey Mrs. Lahote," I speak slyly as she charges over to me for a hug. Paul's mother seems to be the only person in the world that isn't afraid to touch me.

"Scarlett, honey. How are you?" She gushes.

"Wonderful now that you're here!" I laugh.

"Oh now you're just lying to me. Don't be cruel!" She laughs and hands me a box of chocolates and places a new vase of flowers on the bed stand as she sighs to herself and places her hands on her hips. "Have the nurses been watering this like I asked them to? Good Lord in heaven I gave them simple instructions. Simple, step-by-step!"

"They're nurses, Mrs. Lahote," I giggle. "Their job is to keep me alive not water a plant."

"Hydrangeas! Not a plant, Scarlett. Do you have so much to learn once you are healthy enough to leave this cell!"

I laugh.

"Oh, speaking of leaving. So, Paul told me that you were discharged but before we get to moving you out of here I insist on speaking with the doctors and making sure that you are in fact, ready, because honey you know there is no harm in staying a few more days just to make sure that everything is perfectly okay before they just throw you out on the streets like that. Jesus, it's like they stitch you up and then kick you out!"

I laugh. "I don't think it works like that, I do appreciate your concern though, really."

"And of course I will need to go over all of your home care and write it down because Lord only knows with these smart-phones it will get deleted or I will lose the number and speaking of numbers, I will insist on having the doctor's phone number obviously to contact him with any questions or concerns."

I stifle a laugh.

"And if I am wondering if you would be more comfortable with me renting a hospital bed for you for the first few weeks? I looked into that and the rates are extremely reasonable. And I measured the dimensions of Paul's old room and it would certainly fit so that wouldn't be a problem. Oh," She jumps up excitedly. "And of course we will have so much redecorating to do. This is going to be so much fun!"

My mouth drops. "What?" I blurt.

"Oh honey," Mrs. Lahote squeezes my hand. "I knew that Paul wouldn't tell you- goodness that boy is just as bad as he was when he was little! Of course you will not be moving in together! You're 17, the age I got pregnant! I already talked with Paul and told him that you would be moving in with me, instead. Problem solved!" She pats my hand with a satisfied smile and I blink my eyes rapidly together a few times.

I feel as if I am experiencing a terribly evil sense of deja-vu and I can't seem to get rid of it and it just keeps happening and holy shit did it get hot in here or what?

"M-M-Mrs. Lahote," I finally manage to choke out. "I- I," I clear my throat and take a deep breath. I need to get straight to the point this time to avoid a fiasco. "I am so grateful for you. And you don't know how much I appreciate you opening your home up to me, you really don't, but I already,"

"Oh hush!" She shoos my thoughts away. "I have always wanted a daughter, and I already consider you one! You are just apart of my family as my son and it is not something that you have to appreciate! This is what family does!"

"Yes, but,"

"No, no!" She quickly cuts in, "Enough of that!"

"Mrs. Lahote, I,"

"Scarlett," She speaks suddenly, "I will take care of my son. Trust me, he talks a big game but he does as he is told, rightfully so. Please don't argue with me on this- I love you and this will be just perfect, okay?"

My lips feel numb as the words come out. "Okay."

"Great!" She squeals.

I force a smile onto my face.

Holy shit.

I feign a random burst of tiredness so that Mrs. Lahote leaves and I am suddenly left paralyzed with panic. I just told four different people, seven if you include the group of Cullen's that ask, that I would live with them… _all_ of them. Separately. Promised, actually.

I pick up my phone, abruptly bursting into action. I immediately go to Paul's name but then stop myself. Though Paul is _exactly_ who I want to help me in this process, he isn't exactly biased, and the truth is that he is one of the people that I promised I would live with, even though I am not sure if I even want to.

I scramble with my phone so quickly I drop it on my bed and have to tell my fingers to stop shaking. I scroll to the name that I want and then hastily press the phone to my ears.

"Embry?" I speak, my voice full of anxiety and hope. "I need your help!"

* * *

"What's wrong?" He bursts through the hospital door looking about as winded as any werewolf could look. His hair is ruffled and his clothes are disjointed and his shoes are untied.

I tilt my head to the side. "Did you run here?"

He ignores my question. "What is the emergency?"

"Ugh, okay, well," I suddenly blush.

"Scarlett," Embry moans. "Just tell me! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Okay," I sit up straight and gulp. "So, I may have, accidentally, _totally_ accidentally, by the way,"

"Scarlett."

"Fine!" I explode. "I mentioned that I was homeless and Paul just announced that I was moving in with him and I was like fine, okay, that's great. Not sure if I'm ready for it but it's fine. But then the Cullen's came and they were so nice and they are vampires by the way and then they said they wanted to adopt me and have relationship conversations and give me a curfew and Renesmee was all like 'You need to be my sister' and so I just went with it and was like okay this could work.

But then this morning I'm just sitting here minding my own business when Sam and Emily just arrive and suddenly I am moving in with them and taking care of her baby and quite honestly it just seemed like the perfect fit and I thought I had it all figured out and was good to go until, surprise! Here comes Mrs. Lahote who, you know, I love, I really, really do but that lady is like, eccentrically pushy, and it's impossible to say no to her! And then she's telling me that I can't live with Paul because I'm going to be a teen mom and she doesn't want any more complaints because I am living with her.

And now I am confused and freaked out because I told all of these people that I would live with them and I get discharged tomorrow and have no idea what to do!"

I finally let my huge, three paragraph run on sentence drop and gasp in a huge gust of air, breathing heavy.

Embry blinks a few times, silence hanging in the air between us as he takes in my words. "You called me and told me that you had an SOS, life or death emergency, and this is the problem? You told four people you'd live with them?"

"Accidentally!" I clarify.

He stares at me unwavering for a moment before he finally sighs and then comes to sit down next to me. "How do you accidentally do that?"

"It just kind of… slipped."

"What did?" He asks.

"The yes's. And the yeah's. And the okay's."

"Well who do _you_ want to live with?"

I gulp. "I- well- I- I- I," I search my brain for an idea but honestly come up entirely empty. "I don't know!" I finally give up, dropping my head into my hands and shaking my head adamantly.

"Well," Embry sighs. "Can I start by eliminating an option for you?"

I nod my head sadly.

"You may not be aware of this, but vampires and werewolves are natural born enemies, and they smell bad to us. Nessie is different because she is half and Jacob has always been weird with the Cullen's. For you, one it would be extremely hard for Paul to be over there all the time because he'd be fighting a natural-born urge to kill them, and two the Cullen's are extremely strict with Nessie. Like _really_ strict. I don't think you know how strict they are."

"No," I answer immediately, my eyes wide.

"So the Cullen's are out," Embry clarifies.

"Well, I don't know," I nervously pick at my fingers in my lap.

"It wouldn't work," Embry says softly.

I groan. "Fine."

"Alright," He pats my thigh. "Who's next again?"

"That would be either Paul, his mother or the Ueley's," I sigh sadly.

"You don't want to live with Paul's mom, do you?" He asks, the corners of his lips pulling up into a sly smile.

"No," I laugh. "I really don't."

"Well there you go," He laughs and sits back in his chair. "You're left with two, semi-great options. Pick away."

I moan and lie down against the bed. "You don't understand. Even if I picked, which I can't, I will never be able to tell all of these people who opened their homes and their families up to me 'Thanks but no thanks.' I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"What you're supposed to do?" Embry repeats, his voice surprised.

"Yeah."

"Scarlett, this isn't about what you're _supposed_ to do. What do you _want_ to do? That's all that matters."

I gulp. "I- I don't know. I guess I've never been given the option before I just- I don't know, okay?" My eyes drop sadly as I stare down at my hands. "This has turned into a monumental disaster," I say, biting back tears. "I suck."

"Get up." Embry stands suddenly and I look up at him, completely surprised.

"What?"

"Get up," He clarifies as he crosses his arms. "I'm not letting you throw this little pity-party for yourself. Get up because I've got another option for you that I think you will like."

"Ugh, Embry, in case you have forgotten I am trying to dwindle my options not add to them."

"Get up," He moans and throws the covers off of me.

"Cold!" I gasp.

"Get dressed."

"I'm not discharged until tomorrow; I'm not allowed to leave!" I argue.

"Well than we'll say we're going on a fun little adventure to the food court and sneak out the back. Get dressed."

"Fine!" I explode. "Turn around then!"

Embry turns immediately. I notice his head drop to the floor and could swear from the back I see a small blush forming on the corner of his cheek. I think about what Paul said, about him thinking about me putting lotion on my legs, and blush myself.

I push it away and get dressed in a pair of leggings and a crew-neck sweatshirt. I slip my feet into combat boots- the weather has gone from summer to freezing fall in the short time that I have been here, and then pull my naturally wavy hair into a messy pony-tale.

"Done!"

Embry turns, and when he sees me he smiles a crooked smile that it cute but doesn't make me want to attack him with kisses like when Paul smiles.

It is all too easy to sneak out of the hospital. No, really, it was _way_ too easy- kind of concerning. Regardless, about fifteen minutes later we are pulling into a parking lot that does not look familiar to me at all and what looks to be some kind of newly built structure to the side.

Embry hops out and I follow.

"Your solution is to bury me alive. Then I won't have to make a decision at all?"

"Close."

He walks into the front of the yard where the grass is nearly finished growing and then stops to stare straight ahead of him. He waits until I am next to him to begin talking.

"One of my friends is the manager of these. They just finished building them and are looking for residents."

I stare out at the white, picket fenced and flowered and numbered doors in front of me. "Townhouses," I speak slowly. "Impressive."

"Condo's," Embry laughs. "It's close enough to Paul and school and only twenty minutes from Nessie."

I suddenly realize what he is getting at.

"Oh, you want _me_ to live here?" I exclaim.

"No, I was thinking the other homeless seventeen year old I know. I just brought you to get your opinion." He shakes his head at me and then laughs. "But you know what, Scar, I really don't want anything." He is serious now, his voice gentle in all the right ways as his eyes scrunch in compassion towards me. It makes me gulp. "I just want you to have what _you_ want, not what everyone else wants for you."

"W-well," I nervously bite my lip. "I definitely wouldn't be able to afford it."

"Sam and Emily already took all of money from your savings account held by your s-stepfather," I notice him falter on the word. It doesn't bother me like I think it should. "And put it into a personal one in your name with Sam as the co-signer. You have more than enough money."

"W-well, I don't even think I'd get approved. I mean, I'm 17."

"I'm sure someone would co-sign for you," Embry rolls his eyes. "And like I said, I know the owners."

I search my brain for any other worthy excuse that I can muster up and come up short. Why am I so desperate for an excuse, anyways?

I sigh and shake my head. "You know, I think I am pre-wired to self-destruct," I admit, always able to be totally honest with Embry in a way I never have with anyone else before.

He laughs. "You're slightly messed up," He reaches out to ruffle my hair. "But I like you better that way."

I bite the inside of my cheek and suddenly turn to him. I cross my arms overtop of my chest and just now realize how close we are actually standing. I take a step back and notice his expression fall. Embry's eyes drop to the ground and it is as if I watch the regret falling over him like a thick blanket.

"No, Embry," I reach out and touch his arm. He raises his eyes to meet mine. I take a deep, steadying breath and then take a step closer to him. "You feel this too, right? I mean, I'm not crazy."

Embry's eyes widen. "You do?" He whispers in awe.

I nod my head. "I've always felt it. I've just," I drop my eyes to the ground. "I've never really been good with admitting things to myself. I am extremely good at compartmentalizing."

"Me too," He nods his head and runs his fingers through his hair. "Well, not at compartmentalizing, but," His voice trails off. "I don't- I just- I know you love Paul, alright?"

"I know," I reply softly. "And I do. I really, really do… love him, I mean." In a blink and you'll miss it moment, a pained expression fills Embry's face and then dissipates almost immediately, replaced by a controlled blank stare that almost makes me shiver. "I feel something for you too, though."

His eyes widen. I notice him gulp and suddenly feel terrible. I feel terrible because I love making Embry feel better, but I know that if Paul heard me, it would hurt him. I am in a rock between a hard place, totally in love with Paul, but loving Embry too.

"But not like that. I'm not _in_ love with you," I clarify gently.

"I don't- I," Embry sighs. "I don't know Scar, but I do love you though."

I bite the corner of my lip and break eye contact. I look out at the condos and for the first time am actually able to imagine myself living in one of these. I don't don't say it back, but I can't. It feels like cheating, and I love Paul too much to do anything that feels like that.

"It's weird," I finally answer.

"Agreed," Embry sighs. "I'm sorry if it's making you uncomfortable."

I shrug. "I'm not uncomfortable."

I notice the corner of his lip pull up at the corner. "Good."

"What do you think it is?" I ask quietly, nervously even.

"What?" He looks right at me now.

"This… _this,_ " I motion between the two of us. "At first I just thought I was imagining it, but- but now that I know that- that… everything that I thought wasn't real _is_. The world isn't like I thought it was, and I think there still is a lot I don't understand. Is it something that I don't understand? Is it _supernatural?_ " I angrily run my fingers through my hair, forgetting about a sensitive spot and wincing. "It's just, when you saved me in the bathroom, I didn't know it was you who tried to pick me up, I mean I couldn't have. My eyes were closed and I was knocked out, but I _did_ know. I felt… calm, and protected, and I wasn't afraid like all the other people that tried to pick me up. I knew it was you, and I have no idea how I knew it was you."

I watch the wheels turn in Embry's head as he takes everything that I had just said. To be honest, the reason why I grow so defensive about him with Paul, is because I feel like we shared something when he saved me from my step-father. Although, I know that even before that we did too, it was just then, though, that I finally admitted it to myself.

"I don't want to be with you," I finally clarify, breaking the silence, "But I don't ever want you to be unhappy, or alone."  
Embry nods his head. "I feel the same w- no. No I don't." Embry stares straight ahead as he swallows harshly. "I could lie to you and say I feel that too. If I was a semi-decent human begin I would but I- I can't lie to you, Scarlett. I don't." He looks right into my eyes. "I don't."

I know what he is saying even though his isn't saying it.

He is saying that he _does_ want to be with me. As I look into his eyes, deep and confusing and exactly as Paul told me, I suddenly feel like this is too intimate, and I quickly divert my eye contact.

"I'm sorry," I speak softly, kicking a rock beneath my foot.

"Please, don't be sorry," Embry says, his voice sounding pained. "I'm the one let myself fall in love with someone else's imprint.

Embry's eyes grow wide, his complete and utter shock evident across his chiseled face. It is difficult to close my mouth and squint my eyes together enough to reassure him.

"Embry," I reach for his arm and I watch his eyes land on my hand touching his skin and then pull away. "It's okay. I know."

He breathes a breath of relief. "You know?"

"Well, I had no idea. Really. I'm such an idiot, but now I do."

"You're not an idiot," He laughs. "How would you have known?"

"I guess so," I shrug. "When did you know?"

"The first day you guys met, of course," He looks at me kind of confusedly.

I can't help but falter. "How did you know you were in love with me the first day I met Paul?" I blurt.

Embry blinks a few times. "I don't think we're talking about the same things."

"About you being in love with me?" Even saying it makes me blush, but not from Embry, but more so from the fact that somehow this happened _again._ I thought it was crazy enough that Paul loved me back, and yet all along Embry was loving me too, and I seriously had no freaking idea. I make oblivious the understatement of the century.

"Not that," Embry blushes before my very eyes.

"Oh!" My eyes widen and I clear my throat at the ground. "Sorry," I mumble.

"I was talking about the imprint," Embry seems to recover.

"The what?"

Embry stares at me unwavering. "You've got to be kidding me, kid."

I frown. "What?" I repeat, suddenly feeling like an idiot.

"Nevermind," Embry grumbles and then lets out a loud sigh. "So you ready to go back to the hospital now or do you want to look around some more?"

"Not ready to go back to the hospital, but definitely ready to learn about what the hell the imprint is."

Embry cringes. "Not my disaster to tell."

"Disaster?" I gasp.

"Possible. You're kind of more sane than before though, so who knows?"

"Before?" I frown. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Embry clasps his hand around my shoulders and pulls me close to his side as he walks us back to the car. All the while I can't stop thinking about what the hell "the imprint" is and why Embry seemed so shocked I had no idea of it. Is there some werewolf, vampire folk-lord book that I have yet to read that everyone thinks I am skimming every night before bed or something?

It has to be something different than I am expecting. Besides, Paul promised me no more secrets, and he would never lie to me.

"Hey," Embry squeezes my shoulder and I look up at him, I mean _all the way up_ at him; Embry is even taller than Paul. "Thanks for understanding. I'm not going to act on anything or make you feel weird. I swear."

I smile widely as we stop at the car and move to stand directly in front of him. "I don't feel weird, Emb, okay? I'm fine. You're my friend, one of my best friends, right?"

He smiles so brightly I can't help but smile back; this, _this_ is what I mean. Seeing him sad makes me want to cry and seeing him happy makes me want to jump for joy. It is incredible how much I care about him, but not in the same way that I care about Paul, not even a little bit.

I lean in to give him a hug and then rest my forehead against his chest for a moment. He smells like forest and cologne, a stark contrast to fire and laundry like Paul. Paul's scent intoxicates me, but Embry's calms me down. I feel safe.

"I'm sorry I had to make it weird," He wraps his arms around my back and rests his forehead against my shoulder. "I think you're the greatest. I really do. And I'm happy that you have Paul, because I know that he loves you, a lot."

I smile and pull away from him. "I love him a lot, too."

He smiles genuinely and I finally am able to take a breath of relief. Whatever weirdness had happened when he admitted that he was in love with me faded almost instantly when we both let it. It might sound odd to other people, but to me it doesn't seem that weird.

I step into the car with a suddenly cleared head but new questions. What the hell is the imprint? Where do I even want to live? I feel great about what just happened with Embry and I, but now I am wondering what the hell I am going to tell Paul without seeming sneaky. The taste is bitter in my mouth; I wasn't doing anything wrong, was I? Is it wrong to even be alone with Embry now that I know how he feels about me? But I had admitted that there was something between us, but I meant as friends, didn't I? I love Paul, I am _in love_ with Paul, so then why is it wrong?

Somehow, my gut is kind of telling me that it is, and I hate that.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

Scarlett is gone.

I came to sit with her after work, even though I knew that she would be fast asleep. Just watching her safe and sleeping and beautiful is enough to fill a void in me created when I am forced to be away from her during the day. Only, she isn't in her room.

My first thought is that someone took her, and then I think like a rational human being again and realize that her gown in folded nicely on her bed and this _is_ Scarlett we are talking about. She has been practically begging, so antsy to get the hell out of this place; she probably got bored and began wandering around.

As much as I try to convince myself, until I set my eyes on her, I am a fucking wreck.

I nearly scare the night nurse to death as I jump towards her, demanding to know if she has seen Scarlett. Due to Scarlett's near exit, she is low on the list of priorities right now, so the nurse merely looks at me like I am some kind of murderer, stammers out a no and then rushes away, probably to call security.

I run my hands overtop of my face when my eye catches on the stairs. Scarlett is on the top floor, which means that she could have either gone down, or gone up. The vicinity of the stairs to her bed and the fact that she probably couldn't go farther than a floor in her condition sends me rushing up the steps towards the roof. If my gut is right, this girl is officially trying to kill me.

I find the door cracked open, held out by two, tiny flip-flops crammed between the door and the frame. I breathe a sigh of relief and force myself not to pummel her; I can imagine anyone sneaking up on her would scare her. The thought makes me sad all over again. Lately that is what seeing Scarlett does to me: I am relieved, happy because I love her, obviously, but there is always a twinge of sadness prevalent. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't save her from what happened to her.

I step out onto the flat, open roof and spot her blonde hair flowing to the side because of the rough, Washington wind. Immediately I worry that she is cold, but then I notice her position and a more intense fear surges inside of my veins; Scarlett is sitting on the edge of the building, her feet dangling over the side as she stares out at the open skies. We are seven tall stories up. If I scare her I worry that she would fall off.

I stand, terrified and frozen as I try to figure out what the fuck to do.

I'm not about to accidentally kill my reason for existence for being an idiot.

Suddenly, my eyes catch on her phone sitting behind her back and I slowly pull my phone out of my back pocket. I try to remain as quiet as possible as I type out a text.

 _I am right behind you but don't want you to freak out and fall off the roof!_

I cringe as I press send and hope that her phone isn't on silent.

I nearly fall over in relief when it buzzes behind her. Scarlett jumps just a tiny bit, but then she reaches behind her back absentmindedly and pulls the phone to her face.

I hear her laugh, her beautiful, perfect, mesmerizing laugh and then she finally twists to look at me. The wind sends her hair skimming against her cheek and her eyes are glowing a particular shade of beautiful blue tonight.

I stare without even trying to be discreet. She is so perfect. She doesn't even know how perfect she is… but there is that sadness again that comes with seeing her black and blue and green now, too.

"Hi," She bites the center of her cheek and to my surprise doesn't wince.

I smile and swallow down pure and hot desire for her that overtakes me in a single instant. I am _so_ fucking happy that that particular trait is back.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask her, slowly beginning to walk towards her.

"Mmm." Scarlett frowns rather adorably and then raises her arms in the air for me. I smile and quicken my pace to grab her. I don't want her to ever reach and have to wait a single second for me.

I pull her up in the air and then off of the ledge- thank fucking God, sitting us down on the ground a few feet back. Scarlett rests in my lap, her cheek pressed into my shoulder as I run my fingers up and down her upper arm. I kiss her head softly and then she looks up at me with a small sigh and a smile.

"You didn't say hi to me," She says innocently.

I am not sure if Scarlett is trying to flirt or not, but God damn do I want to fuck her now. Her voice is extra raspy, though the reason for that I would care less to think about.

"Hi," I laugh gently and then lower my mouth to hers.

I hear Scarlett's breath catch in her throat as I stop only inches from her lips, suddenly remembering that I can't quite kiss her, only, I don't pull away like all the times before.

I can feel her breath against my mouth, her heat and her desire flowing into me and hitting me like a boulder. I swallow harshly and close my eyes.

"Is this okay?" I ask gently. The last thing I want to do is push her, but I _need_ her, and not just for me. I want to kiss her and make her feel better in the only way that I really know how.

It takes a second, but finally, Scarlett nods her head. Her eyes are closed when I pull away just slightly to look at her. I want to make sure that she isn't lying to me, or pushing to herself in the slightest. "Just," She sounds like a little girl. "Be gentle."

I nearly laugh. "Scarlett," I whine. "Of course. Always. _Always,_ okay?"

Scarlett smiles. "Than kiss me, Paul Lahote."

And that is all it takes.

I swallow down the animalistic side of myself that just wants to attack her with passion and slowly press my mouth to hers. I moan as soon as my lips touch hers and I feel her smile against my lips.

Scarlett is so _soft_ … everywhere. Her lips are slightly swollen so they are even plusher than normal, which is making it hard not to press my lips tightly against hers to fully feel them. Instead, I rest my lips on hers and allow her to take the lead. Scarlett leans into me and I kiss her gently, perfectly. She presses herself harder to me and kisses me deeper, and of course I oblige. Scarlett whines and opens her mouth, and I know what she wants. I slip my tongue into her and I hear her breathing pick up immediately.

Scarlett presses her mouth hard against mine and then I feel her wince and pull away. Before I am able to check on her, she is kissing me again.

I laugh and place my hands gently on the sides of her face. I use as little force as possible to force myself to pull her away from me; this is about her, not me.

"Scarlett," I smile at her closed eyes and red lips. "Relax, baby."

"I... can't," She moans, followed by a slightly embarrassed giggle.

"I'm not going anywhere," I stroke my thumb across her cheek. "You have forever to kiss me."

She smiles widely, her eyes suddenly popping open. "I have been thinking about that, actually."

My eyes bulge. "About forever?" I blurt.

She blushes. "Is that okay?"

I shake my head at her, astonished that she still has no idea how obsessed with her I am. "I think about forever with you about eighteen times a day."

She giggles. "Eighteen exactly?"

I laugh and bounce her in my lap. "What were you thinking about, exactly?"

"Okay," She takes a deep breath and sighs. "Just hear me out, okay?"

Oh no. I sigh and begrudgingly nod my head.

"We need to start figuring out a way that I can be immortal like Nessie and the Cullen's… and kind of you too when you're a wolf."

Now that was the last thing I was ever expecting to hear.

"What?" I stammer, a laugh as well as a completely confused sound bursting out from the back of my throat.

"The Cullen's told me they are vampires."

Another surprise. "And how did you… feel about that?"

Scarlett shrugs. "Fine, I guess, as long as she doesn't try to drink my blood any time soon."

I growl and hold her tighter to me. "Never."

She laughs. "I do kind of wish that you would have told me though," Scarlett begins, her eyes dropping to my collar as she beings playing with it, a habit of hers when she begins to get a little bit too deep with me.

"I didn't want to freak you out," I tell her honestly, my voice gentle. I reach for her fingers and pull them up to my mouth to kiss them. "I'm sorry, baby. I don't ever try to keep anything from you, I swear.

She cringes.

"Scarlett," I begin slowly, panic seizing my body in an instant; my first thought is that she is hurt, but upon closer inspection I realize that she is just fine. She looks almost… guilty. "Are you okay?"

"I-I-I," Scarlett sits up in my lap and then takes a deep, steadying breath. "Something… happened today."

"Did someone hurt you?" I ask as softly as I possibly can for the anger surging through my veins.

"No, no, nothing like that." She looks down towards the ground and bites the corner of her lip. Scarlett is seriously nervous. I press my finger underneath her chin and push her face up towards me.

"You can tell me anything, Scar," I whisper to her huge, wide blue eyes. I kiss her softly and pull her hand overtop of my shirt, right where my heart is underneath my skin. I notice her lips pull up at the corners as the memories of that moment in my room right before our Florida trip came rushing into her mind, as they did to me.

I smile reassuringly.

"Embry told me that he was in love with me."

The air around me stops.

I feel like I have been punched in the gut.

I force myself to swallow. "And what did you say to that?" I ask evenly. The way she is talking, it's like she is feeling guilty about something that _she_ did, and that scares me more than anything. If she had said it with disgust or with surprise or even shock, I would have totally understood, but this? I can't help but let my mind wander.

She looks towards the ground and purses her lips. "I said that I care about him too," She says so softly she nearly whispers. My hands drop to my sides. She picks her head up quickly, tears quickly springing to her eyes. "But not like that!" She clarifies, her voice higher than usual. "I told him that I care about him like a best friend, and that I am in love with _you_."

My joints lose their tension and I breathe a breath of relief as I run my hand along her cheek. Scarlett is so perfect, so beautiful and gentle and innocent and sweet; I always seriously wondered how the fuck I ever managed to have her as my own. I hadn't realized how scared I have always been of losing her until this very moment.

"Well that's okay, honey," I tell her softly. "Is that all you said?"

Scarlett bites the inside of her cheek again and those damn tears are back. I swallow down bile. "Paul I- I told him about how when I was attacked I- I didn't want a-anyone to t-touch me, except for you. And e-every time J-J-Jacob or Seth or Q-Quil tried I freaked out but then w-when he did I- I- I feel safe around him." She drops her eyes in remorse and presses her lips tightly together to keep from crying. "It's hard to explain," Her voice finally cracks. "He-he- he's like- Nessie's my best girlfriend, and I've never had one of those, but I've never had any best friends, period, and Embry's like my best friend."

I cringe. I can't help it. _I_ want to be her best friend.

"H-h-he said he was sorry, and that he knew that I loved you and that you loved mea and t-that he wouldn't ever try to- try- he said that he was happy for us," She is struggling for the right words and I can tell. "But," Her eyes fall sadly. "I can understand if you don't want me hanging out with him anymore after what he said."

I nearly blurt a yes. I nearly scream that she is never allowed to speak or touch or look at him again, and then I nearly phase right then and there so that I can go after Embry and tear him limb from limb. Sam already talked to Embry, multiple times, actually. He told him that whatever fucked up feelings he had for _my_ reason for existence were fucking fine, who the fuck cared, but that it wasn't his place to tell her, or even come near her, and here he went and told her that he was in love with her. What the fuck?

But then I see the beautiful, slightly bruised but innocent and sweet, perfect human in my lap and I totally forget about all of that.

I cup her cheeks in my hands and lift her face. There is a single tear that drops down her face at the movement, and I stare at her sadly. "Didn't I tell you you're not allowed to cry anymore?" I whisper with a small smile.

Scarlett smiles just a little bit but it is obviously forced.

"Honey," I kiss the tear away and then pull away again. "I love you. I love you so much it's like I can't fucking breathe when you're not around me. I love you no matter what, okay? And while I'm not jumping up and down with joy that Embry confessed he was in love with you and you have certain… feelings for him," Her eyes drop shamefully. "I _do_ trust you. And I think you've had enough pain in your life for ten lifetimes. I don't ever want to be the person to take someone away from you that loves you, in any form, just because I'm jealous."

"Jealous?" Scarlett's eyes pop. "Why would you be jealous? Paul! That's insane! I love you like, like, like- you don't even understand because I can't explain how much! It freaks me out! You-you you changed me. I never let anyone in and then suddenly you came along and my entire life changed. You saying you're jealous is like me saying- it's like- it's like- it's like I can't even think of a parallel because there will never be one good enough to explain it."

"Scarlett," I can't help a laugh from slipping between my lips. "It's okay- I know."

"No you don't," She moans, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I came up here because I felt so guilty. The whole thing is just, it left a bad taste in my mouth. I felt like- like I cheated on you or something."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"I didn't!" She clarified. "Not even close! Not even- God that was the wrong thing to say." Scarlett presses her hands to her head exasperatingly and I sigh and pull them away from her face.

"Relax," I tell her gently. "I'm not going to leave you, ever."

I feel Scarlett relax in my grasp and then she finally makes direct eye contact with me. "I hated the feeling of keeping something from you, even if I didn't mean to."

"I know," I smile and cup her face between my hands. "I love you too, okay?"

"Okay," She smiles finally and then shakes her head. "Oh, wait! I have a question!"

I shoot back, surprised by her abrupt change in attitude, which causes her to shy away from me.

"O-okay," I clear my throat. "What?"

"What is "The Imprint"?"

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. I am momentarily too stunned to speak. "What did you just say?" I finally manage to get out.

"I said sorry to Embry and he said that it wasn't my fault and that it was his for falling in love with someone else's imprint. And then he said some other weird stuff and then I asked what he was talking about and he said 'the imprint' and then when I asked what that was he said 'You have got to be kidding me, kid!' and then he told me that it wasn't his disaster to tell, or something along those lines. And something else about me freaking out but I can't remember."

I swallow harshly.

Fuck.

This is the thing with Embry though. It's fine if he's weirdly obsessed with her, whatever, I don't fucking care. I bet you 95% of the entire population is, too, it's just that he takes it too far. He doesn't just like Scarlett, he _loves_ her, he doesn't just accidentally let one super huge giant secret slip, he lets two.

I moan and run my hand overtop of my face. "Definitely not the right time."

"Why?" She pushes, her lower lip coming out in a seriously adorable pout. "I've been dying of curiosity! What is "The Imprint", Paul?" She pushes. I nearly laugh at her saying "The Imprint" like it is some sort of expensive jewelry company.

"Scarlett," I laugh gently and run my hands up her back. "Just- no, okay?"

"No!" She actually yells at me. My eyes widen in surprise. "Not _me_ no, _you_ no! Stop protecting me from stuff and keeping stuff from me! It's annoying. What, is Kim a mermaid now or something?"

I burst out laughing. "No, sweetheart, Kim is not a mermaid."

"Than what the hell is "The Imprint?" She commands, the little bit of patience that she had posessed having completely faded away.

"Okay, first of all, stop calling it "The Imprint," I laugh. "It's creepy sounding and not accurate. It's _imprinting._ "

"Fine," Scarlett crosses her arms overtop of her chest in defiance. "Than what is imprinting?"

I gulp and take a steadying breath. I rank my head for how the hell to put this so that it doesn't come off super terrible and creepy like I always thought it was before it ever happened to me; fuck, I can see into their heads and I still thought that!

The only thing that comes to mind is Jared telling Kim and her locking herself in her room and calling the police. That had been a fun fire to put out. I think about the other imprints. Nessie had guessed it, the freaky, smart little thing, and with Emily it was pretty much the only explanation that she would accept to turn on her cousin and steal her boyfriend, so that is an entirely different story.

"Scar," I am begging her now. "Can I have a few days to figure out how I'm going to tell you?"

"Tell me what?" She whines. "Paul, this is so shitty. You always do this to me."

"I do not," I argue with raised eyebrows.

"Yes you do!" She crosses her arms overtop of her chest.

"Not now. "It's not bad, though, I promise. It's good, really, really good." I sigh and rub my hands overtop of her shoulders that have just began to goose bump. It is right now that I realize her eyelids are threatening to pull overtop of her eyes, sleep practically begging her to come and join.

"You do realize when you say that it makes me think up these crazy scenarios in my head like you are a polygamist or something?"

"Scarlett," I barely register her words with how terribly tired she looks. "How long have you been out of bed?"

"I'm fine," She argues.

"You're practically falling over you're so tired. You're still on a lot of medicine. Baby girl, you need your sleep."

"I'm not tired," She yawns.

I roll my eyes. "Come on."

I go to lift her but she struggles in my arms. I let her loose. "I don't want to sleep I want to know what imprinting is!" She yells at me.

"Well I'm not telling you right now."

"Why not?" She exclaims.

"Because it's not the right time, Scarlett! I'm done having this discussion with you."

Her mouth drops and then hangs open at me. Her eyebrows are scrunched angrily together and her jaw is flexed and tight. She looks so adorable this angry; I try not to laugh or kiss her, for she surely would not like that.

"Why is it not the right time?" She pushes.

"Because there are much more important things to worry about right now," I sigh, giving in only slightly to answer her question. "Like you sleeping, and healing, and teaching you self-defense, and you getting discharged."

"I don't want to learn self-defense I want to know about imprinting," She says between gritted teeth.

"Well I'm sorry you feel that way," I sigh.

"Ugh!" Scarlett explodes as she hits my shoulder, her fist feeling like a marshmallow being thrown at me, though it is not my shoulder I am worried about. I lurch forward to grab her injured, still wrapped and injured hand and pull it up for further inspection.

"Scarlett!" I reprimand, my voice hard and loud. "What is wrong with you?"

"I am suffering from a case of imprinting."

I drop her hand and press my lips together to conceal a laugh.

"What is imprinting?" She demands.

"Alright. You could either get up and walk willingly, or I will carry you; your choice."

"Paul Lahote if you touch me I swear to God-,"

"Perfect."

I grab her gently around the waist and pull her up.

"Let… Me… Go!" She screams, pulling herself out of my grasp. As soon as I hear her feet hit the floor she stomps her foot angrily, like a little girl having a tantrum and then stalks towards the door.

I reach for her good hand and spin her around. Scarlett is just about to yell at me some more when I kiss her. And not just tentatively this time, I mean I _really_ kiss her in a knock her off her feet sort of kiss. I practically drown in a puddle of my own desire as I feel her melt into me.

I pull away and she whimpers. "Paul."

"Shhh," I stroke my fingers along the side of her face and then feel her rest her forehead against my chest. I slip my arm around her back and feel her legs give way. "You're so sleepy, baby." I lift her legs up into the air and begin walking back towards the door, leaving her shoes, for I will come back for those later.

"I'm really not," She slurs.

I laugh. "It's the medicine, Scar. Even if you're not tired it makes you sleep."

"That's stupid," She moans. "I knew I shouldn't have let them give me that pill right before I came out here."

I shush her again and then carry her down into bed, no one even noticing her return, just as they hadn't noticed her depart.

"The security is seriously questionable around this place," I murmur to myself.

Scarlett laughs gently. "I said the same thing!"

I can't help but laugh. "Could you just do what you're told, for once in your life? You nearly scared me to death! I thought someone took you!"

Scarlett mumbles something incomprehensible as she shifts in my arms. "We're here, baby," I tell her softly as I lift the sheets.

"No," She clutches my shirt in her hand with her eyes closed, not letting go even as I lay her down in the bed. "I love when you do that," Her smile is timid, sleepy.

"Do what?" I whisper as I stroke the top of her hair over and over again.

"I love when you laugh when I'm against your chest. It like… vibrates. It's really soothing." If she was more awake I am sure she would blush. "Sorry, that's weird."

"No it's not." I force her grip open and then kiss her hand.

"Will you lay with me?" She begs. "Please?"

"Scarlett," I begin, for both of us know that is extremely prohibited here; we learned quickly.

"Paul," She nearly cries. "I need you."

"Scarlett," I moan. "I want to but,"

"But I'm cold."

I moan and rub my face harshly. "Move over."

I see her smile and then scoot over in the bed so that I can lie on top of the covers.

She frowns. "I'm still freezing. Why don't you get _under_ the covers so that you can really warm me up."

"You didn't take any IV's out when you broke out of here, did you?" I ignore her to ask worriedly. Honestly, at this point I wouldn't put it past her.

"No," She yawns. "Everything's oral for me, now." She giggles shamelessly. "Isn't that just a parallel to my life."

I roll my eyes. "You're a bad girl. Sleep."

"She rolls onto her side and presses her ass into my waist. I moan. She knows exactly what she is doing. I grasp her hips and put some distance between us.

"Sleep," I demand.

"I'm not tired."

"You're lying to me."

"Paul?"

I moan. "Would you please sleep, Scarlett?" I am pleading with her now. "You're about to pass out you're so tired and I'm not telling you about imprinting right now, okay?"

"Hm," She sighs but then turns over so that she is facing me. I turn onto my back and then reach my hand out, inviting her to rest her head on my chest. She does just that and I sigh in contentment, running my fingers through her soft, soft hair and kissing her head softly.

"Have you been having any nightmares?" I ask her softly.

"No," Scarlett answers after a moment. "But I've been being medically induced. I'm kind of scared that once they stop doping me up to sleep I'll start having them."

I kiss her three times on the top of her head and run my hand down her arm. "I'll be there every night," I promise her.

"Paul?" Her voice is so fragile I nearly break.

"Yeah Scar?"

"I don't want to live with you," She admits, sounding timid and nervous. She lifts her face up to my shocked eyes and frowns. "I'm sorry." Her voice is timid and weak but it still feels like I just got punched in the gut. I swallow down the pain of her admission and try to keep my face neutral.

"I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to hurt your feelings, "She says, tearing up again before my very eyes.

"You don't have to explain yourself, Scar," I mentally kick myself. "I never should have just expected you would want to live with me."

"But I _do_ want to live with you," She cries. "One day, I really do. Just not now. I'm 17; I'm not ready to move in with you. I don't want to ruin this. I love you and I don't know what I would do without you."

I smile a real, genuine smile, the agony floating away in an instant. "I completely understand."

"You do?" She asks, almost surprised.

"Of course I do," I say gently as I rub the top of her back. "Did you feel like I pressured you?"

"It's not you," She replies nervously.

"What do you mean?" I ask her gently. "Who do you feel is pressuring you?"

"Everyone," She blurts, rubbing at her eyes sleepily.

"Baby, we can talk about this in the morning," I reassure her, but she waves my suggestion away easily.

"After you left the Cullen's came and asked to adopt me, and have me move in with them."

My eyes pop. "What?" I breathe.

"And then after them Emily and Sam came and asked me to live with _them_ , and then your mom came and kind of told me I was living with her."

I close my eyes. "I am so sorry. I told that woman not to do it."

Scarlett giggles. "It's okay, Paul. I like your mom."

"So you're living with my mom?" My eyes pop.

"No. Yes. I mean, I'm kind of living with everyone, which I guess means I'm living with no one." She sighs. "I told everyone yes."

My voice falters. "Everyone?"

"Yes," She shakes her head. "You don't understand. I don't get why these people would just completely change their lives for me. I can't tell them no because I am so grateful for them because I don't even understand it. Why would all of them do that for me?"

"Because they love you, Scar," I answer simply, smiling down at her. "It's not hard, I promise."

"Everyone loves me," She mutters.

I laugh. "Too soon."

"But how am I going to tell them, Paul? I can't say no. They're doing the nicest thing for me," She yawns. "People don't do nice things for me. I'm not used to having to say no."

I cringe. "No one will love you any less if you don't accept their offers, baby. You know that, right?"

Scarlett's eyes close again and she mumbles sleepily.

"We'll talk in the morning," I whisper in her ear. "Sleep."

"B-B-B," Scarlett fights the sleep that is begging to overtake her and I shake my head. This girl is so stubborn she could probably overcome sleep by morphine if she wanted to. "But then Embry took me to look at an apartment today."

My arms tighten around her.

Why the fuck is he taking her to look at anything? Let alone apartments. Wait, he fucking _took her_ from the _hospital?_ God this kid is dead.

"Well, a condo actually," She mumbles.

A thought suddenly occurs to me.

"I love you, but there is no way in hell you're moving in with Embry."

Scarlett giggles, her chest barely rising and falling as she does so. "Not for _us_ , for me."

I run my fingers down her back and contemplate this. "You want to live all by yourself, baby girl?"

Scarlett just barely nods her head. "I think I do."

"That's fine," I kiss the top of her head. "I just don't ever want you to be lonely, my Scarlett."

She smiles, her eyes still closed. "I like that."

"What?" I smile down at her, so close to sleep it is unbelievable. "You like when I call you _my_ Scarlett?" I ask, though I know that is exactly what she likes.

She nods her head and mumbles sleepily.

"You're my baby, you already knew that." I stroke my hand down the side of her hair, making her mumble something unintelligible. "Right?"

She nods her head. "Paul?"

"How are you still awake right now?" I ask in wonder.

"Is it a thing?"

"What?"

"A noun or adjective," She mumbles. "Imprinting."

I roll my eyes. "Go to sleep, Scarlett."

"Could I at lst ha a hint?" She speaks with broken English, half asleep.

"Yes," I sigh. "Sleep and I'll tell you about it later."

I wait for a snide remark, a sassy comment or intelligent comeback, but nothing comes. I hesitantly look down to see her chest rising and falling in rhythm, and her face finally resting in a peaceful stupor. I smile to myself and lie back down, occupying myself with running my fingers down the length of her hair.

When I get kicked out of her bed, which I certainly will, I have a few things I need to take care of:

1\. Kill Embry.

2\. Figure out how the hell I am going to tell her about imprinting.

3\. Kill Embry.

Did I mention I am going to kill Embry?

* * *

I promise that the whole Embry situation will be explained as the chapters go on- but until then I would love to hear what you all thought about that whole exchange!

Like I said, I went and re-read and decided that this is the best way to take the story and deal with Scarlett's living situations... I really hope you all like it!

Please follow, favorite and review:) I will update ASAP!


	27. The First Time

Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait and thanks so much for reading! I really think this chapter will make up for the extra time ;) ENJOY! And once again, thank you for all the follows and favorites and reviews- they really make my day!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I hear the back door open and smile to myself.

"Scarlett," Paul speaks, his voice teetering on obvious nervousness. I got discharged only a few hours ago, and ever since Paul has been so worried about every little detail of my recovery process. Before bed-medications was about a twenty minute affair with sticky notes and check marks and tongue checks- not even kidding. And that is not to mention my "bed-time" of nine o'clock sharp.

It was infuriating. But it was also utterly endearing; I've never had someone take care of me before.

"What are you doing out here?" He steps closer to me and I peer up at him from my spot lying on the porch. He has on a pair of boxers and a tee-shirt; how can that turn me on so much? "It's freezing." I watch his eyes trail up and then back down my bare legs and smile to myself. He is still so worried about me.

"Come join me," I smile and then pat the wood next to me.

"Scarlett," He begins, distaste in his tone, "It's cold."

"Please?" I peer up at him and plant my very best innocent expression on my face.

Paul seems to internally argue with himself for a moment before he gives in with a heavy sigh. I giggle to myself as he lowers himself down next to me.

Silence fills the air around us, but it's a comfortable silence that I want to bathe in and stay in forever. It is incredible how much my mood changes with just being close to Paul.

"Are you okay?" He asks me gently.

I let his words sink in for a moment. Am I okay? I think I am. I am out of the hospital. I have my living situation decided, which included breaking the news to everyone that I did not want to live with them, which was just as emotionally exhausting as it was nerve wracking. I have Paul.

So why do I feel like this?

"Do you think we'll go to the beach again?" I blurt.

Paul looks at me kind of sideways, which I really can't blame him for. I have no idea where my question came from either.

"Of course." I feel his fingers brush mine and then squeeze my hand. "We can go anywhere you want to go. We could even live by the beach, if you wanted."

"Really?" I voice picks up with peaked interest.

"Yes," Paul smiles definitively.

"I don't know," I look back up at the sky. "I like Forks."

"Really?" Paul sounds skeptical. "What is there to love?"

"Well not Forks itself," I roll my eyes. "But we have Nessie here, and Jacob and Embry and everyone else. Do you think they'll all move away at some point?"

"No I don't," Paul places his hands behind his head. "Emily and Sam have already planted themselves here and the rest of them have family. Especially not Jacob and Nessie, so don't worry about that."

"Oh right," I can't help a little bit of annoyance from seeping into my tone. "How could I have forgotten about the immortal thing?"

Paul peers over at me with a sly smile playing on his lips. "You're really bitter about that, aren't you?"

"I am not bitter," I giggle. "I just don't think it's fair, is all."

"We've got a long time," Paul laughs.

"Yeah like 60 years," I roll my eyes.

"60 years is a long time, sweetheart."

"Not really," I sigh.

"Think about it," Paul pushes. "You could have met me when you were 30. _That_ wouldn't have been enough time."

"I feel like nothing is enough time," I murmur.

Paul rolls over so that he is holding himself overtop of me and then smiles gently. He strokes a piece of my hair all the way from my cheek to the end and then does that once more. "What's wrong, hm?" Paul kisses the dip of my neck, right in front of my ear, and I sigh.

"Nothing," I lie.

"Scarlett." I can feel his smile on my skin when he kisses me again, lower down my neck this time.

"Nothing in particular," I clarify. "I'm just thinking about… things."

"What kind of things?" He kisses my shoulder and I bite my lip to keep from smiling.

"So I Googled imprinting," I tell him, trying to change the subject.

"You did?" Paul laughs. "And what did you find?"

"Some really weird article about male wolves imprinting on other wolves and always having sex with that one specific wolf."

He laughs boisterously into my neck, causing me to gasp and push away from him. "Stop!" I giggle, "That tickles!"

Paul pulls his head up and away from me and then drops his lips back down, though this time he kisses along the collar of my shirt. "Not entirely inaccurate."

"Hm?" I am not able to comprehend his words when he is kissing me like this.

"Nevermind," He kisses the curve of my breast, overtop of my shirt.

My breath catches in my throat and then he pulls away.

"You're diverting," He smiles a knowing smile.

"And you're annoying me."

"How?" He laughs.

"Keep kissing me."

"Tell me what's wrong and maybe."

"Maybe?" I challenge him.

"Fine," Paul laughs. "Tell me what's wrong and certainly."

"Certainly," I giggle. "I like that much better."

Paul smiles. "Let's hear it then."

I sigh. "It's… kind of my birthday on Saturday."

I swear all the color leaves his face in an instant. "W-what?" He stammers. "It's your birthday? Scarlett, why didn't you tell me?"

I moan. " _That_ is why. I knew you would freak out!"

"What?" Paul appears extremely confused. "I'm not freaking out I'm just shocked. I don't have a lot of time."

"No," I pretend to start crying. "I swear to God if you try to plan this huge event I'll die. I'll die and then I'll come back from the dead to haunt you and then I'll die again."

Paul slides his arm underneath my neck and then pulls me to him. "Don't talk about dying," He whispers into my ear.

I shiver. "Sorry," I say as I grasp a handful of his shirt. Ever since my actual near death experience, Paul has been extremely sensitive to me ever using the words death, dying or dead in any form, even sarcasm. I run my hand down his covered chest and feel him harden beneath my fingers.

I tug on the bottom of his shirt. "Off," I blush.

Paul smiles down at me and then quickly pulls it overtop of his head.

I take a good, long look at my new view. "Much better," I murmur.

"You're a pervert," Paul kisses my neck again.

"No I'm not!" I laugh. "I'm just… needy."

Paul laughs loudly but then he drops his hand to begin rubbing my thigh. I bite the corner of my lip and stifle a groan. "You're so horny, Scarlett baby."

I blush and clasp my arms around his neck. "It's been forever! How are you _not_?"

He raises his eyebrows and then looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "You have no idea, Scarlett. I want you more than I want oxygen. I've just had a lot of practice with forcing myself not to have you." Paul squeezes my thigh and I gasp. He smiles wickedly.

"Well why don't you stop forcing yourself then," I speak, breathless.

Paul freezes with his lips just about to touch my neck again. He picks his head up and locks his eyes with mine. His eyes are searching, looking for a hint of hesitation or sarcasm or nervousness, but he certainly doesn't find any.

"Really?" He asks, his voice picking up at the end, causing him to have to clear his throat. His breaks his eyes from mine for one second to look up and down my body. He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it. Finally, Paul lets out a long, deep breath and then moans right before kissing me softly.

"Scarlett," He breathes into my mouth.

"Mmm," I can't help myself.

"Would you stop moaning," He laughs against my lips. "It is making it very hard for me to say no."

"No?" I break from him and my mouth drops.

Paul strokes a finger down the side of my face and then looks down at my body again. He licks his lower lip and then groans deep from the back of his throat. "I don't think you're ready yet."

I gasp. "What do you mean? I just told you I was!"

"I don't believe you," He moans and drops his head. "Now would you please stop? If you push me I won't be able to say no."

My cheeks redden. Would he really give in that easily?

I bravely raise my shaking hand to his chest and slowly slide it down his stomach.

"Scarlett," Paul moans, loudly. "Stop."

"Why?" I push, happy that he has his head dropped and eyes closed so that he isn't able to see my red cheeks. My finger finds his waistband and I bite the corner of my lip as I begin running along the length of it.

Paul moans and then roughly grips his hand around my own, idling my movement.

I gasp and pull away. My cheeks are flushed and my mouth is open. My eyes are wide too. "S-s-sorry," I stammer.

Paul opens his eyes and then looks down at me. To my surprise, his mouth is open, too. His eyes are wild, his jaw tensed, in fact, now that I look at it him I can see that every single one of his muscles are tensed too. If I wasn't so shocked I would take a mental picture; this is the first time that I have ever seen the roles reversed in our relationship. For the first time, Paul is the one seriously turned on, and I am the one making him feel that way.

I love it so much I nearly attack him.

I go to reach for his waistband again when my eyes connect with something that I was most definitely not prepared for. An incoherent sound slips from the back of my throat as my eyes grow three sizes too big, which is kind of the side of his boxers now. Paul is hard. Paul is _really_ hard. His boxers are stretched out, looking as if they may just rip, and I am left wondering how big he really is.

I blush and look up towards the sky. Oh my God! I have never seen that particular part of a man's before. I am so heated!

"Scarlett," Paul runs his fingers along the side of my face and kisses my cheek gently. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you?" He asks gently.

"N-no," I blush. "I just… wasn't expecting that."

He laughs, though it comes out more painful than anything. "I told you I wouldn't be able to resist."

"Obviously," I chuckle as a fresh wave of heat finds its way to my face.

For the first time, I let myself actually wonder about whether I am scared or not. It's an odd concept to grasp, but when it comes to Paul and sex, I never have actually thought of the logistics of the whole thing. I just figured, Paul is experienced. Paul is gentle. Paul is _Paul_. He would know what to do and he would talk me through it and it would just happen and of course it would feel good and _whela_.

Now that I am faced with the reality of it, and by reality I mean the large lump in Paul's shorts, I am suddenly wondering if I _am_ ready after all.

"Scarlett," Paul kisses my neck and I can't help but lose myself again. Alright, brain, just stop it now; what was I so worried about anyways? "You don't just want to have sex with me because you think I need it, right?"

My eyes pop open. Well that shot me right back into the present. "What?" I ask, obviously confused.

Paul sighs and picks his face up. He looks down and then adjusts himself so that he won't press into me and then smiles almost shyly as he peers down at me. I, of course, am a tomato. He raises his arm to begin stroking the stop of my head, which I really am not complaining about. "I just want to make sure that you don't think that I _need_ this. I love you, and I want you. I really, really, _really_ want you. But I don't need it. Not right now at least."

"W-What does that mean?" I chuckle nervously.

"It means what I need is for _you_ to feel good. I need to protect you, and make you happy in every way. I need to make you feel pleasure, not the other way around."

I blush. "W-well that's… sweet?" Sweet? _Sweet?_ Pull it together, Scarlett! "But that's not why I want it Paul," I finish quietly.

"Can I ask you something else," Paul sighs, his voice dropping and his eyes wandering anywhere but my eyes.

I scrunch my forehead together in worry. "Yes?"

"It's not because I've had sex with other girls before either, is it?"

I gasp. "N-no!" I answer back quickly. I shake my head and then close my eyes and shake it once more, more intensely this time. I try my very hardest not to think about it, but in certain moments like this I am confronted with live-stream videos of Paul with hot, exotic looking women kissing them in the same ways and saying the same things.

"You promise?" He kisses my chin.

I sigh. "Yes, Paul," I grumble. "I try not to think about it."

"About what?"

I moan and open my eyes. "Really?"

Paul winces. "Scarlett," He begins. I go to shut him up but he shakes his head at me. "It's different with you, I've told you that."

"Yeah I know," I argue back, not able to keep the bite out of my voice. "It's just hard not to think about it, okay? If I had been with a lot of guys you would think about it."

He kisses my softly. "I'm sorry, "Paul whispers into my lips.

I sigh. "It's fine. You didn't even know me yet, it's not like you did anything wrong."

"Eh," Paul shrugs. "I know now that it wasn't right."

"What wasn't?" I cock my head.

"What I was doing to those girls." He sighs and looks guiltily towards the ground. "I shouldn't have used them like that. I- I- You didn't know me before you, Scar. I would say anything to get what I wanted. I used a lot of nice girls. And they'll never be able to get that back, you know?"

I raise my eyebrows slowly. "Seriously?" I ask, my voice monotone.

Paul looks up at me, confused. "What?"

"Do you really think I want to hear about you feeling bad for all the girls you've had sex with?"

Paul cringes. "Would you rather hear that I never gave a shit about them? Because I think you already know that I never did."

"Yes," I smile, finally content.

"Scarlett," Paul scolds me. "They didn't do anything wrong. I was the one who did something wrong."

"That's okay you can still talk bad about them."

"Oh Scarlett." Paul drops his face and then laughs into my neck. I bite the corner of my lip; I am not sure why that turns me on so much.

"You want to know something?" He asks after a second. His lips begin a trail from my ear, across my neck, down my neck and then along my collarbone.

"What?" I somehow manage to get out.

"I'm new to this too."

I am too busy enjoying Paul gently sucking on my neck to notice. "You're funny," I breathe.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Paul suddenly stops kissing me.

"Wh-wh- no!" I exclaim a little too loudly, causing me to blush.

He kisses me again and I settle back into complete and total contentness. He must have been referring to the pretty prominent bruises that are still healing on my neck from the near chocking incident. Regardless, Paul kissing me could never hurt me, and it is impossible for me not to notice the way he is extremely careful to avoid any areas that are still bruised.

"No I'm serious," He mouth and words begin at once, making me backtrack to realize what we were talking about in the first place. "What that was, it was just sex. With you it's different." I moan when he hits a particularly sensitive part and then clasp my mouth back shut. "With you it will always be different- it's not even the same thing."

"I'm not sure I'm following," I close my eyes.

"Scarlett," I feel him smile against my ear. "You've never had sex, but I've never made love."

My mouth drops. He sucks on the skin right beneath my ear and a moan slips between my open mouth. Oh my _God!_ I feel myself blush. Leave it to Paul to say something so brash yet sexy and intimate and make me feel all different types of turned on and nervous all at the same time.

Paul pulls away. "Do you still want to?" He asks, trying to suppress a smile.

I don't even have to think about it, but that is probably because my mind stopped working a long time ago; my mouth is strictly taking orders from my body, and currently, my body needs Paul. "Yes."

I can tell immediately that he is surprised with how sure I am. "Really?" He asks. His eyes do that thing where they trail over my body again and I see his jaw tense. "Scarlett," Paul moans and then sighs. "I don't want to hurt you."

I blush. "You could never hurt me," I wrap my arms around his neck. "And besides, I have a high pain tolerance."

"Not funny," He nuzzles his face into my neck and takes a deep breath of my skin. "Are you sure, baby? We could wait."

I smile. "You know when you came out here and asked what I was thinking about?"

He nods.

"I was thinking about how close I was to dying, and how I would have died never having experienced certain… things with you. Sex being one of them," I swallow down my blush. "I don't have forever with you, and even though I don't think it's fair, it's our reality, so I don't want to spend any more time waiting. I want you. And I want you right now."

Paul lifts his head and then cups my face between his hands. "Are you sure?" A smile is playing on his lips now. "Take your time and really think about it; like I said, if you push it I won't be able to say no."

I giggle. "Yes. I'm sure."

Paul closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again he kisses me quickly and then lifts me into his arms.

"What are you doing?" I laugh as he walks us back inside.

He looks at me like I have lost my mind. "Not out here," He smiles and then sets me down. Paul grabs my cheeks gently, probably not to accidentally hurt any of my healing bruises and then kisses me right off of my feet. Literally.

He catches me, laughs, and then pulls away.

"I need to go get some things," He tells me gently.

My eyes widen and I blush. What? What kinds of things? My mind goes wild at this point.

"Don't worry," He kisses me again, softly this time. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

I nod my head and gulp loudly.

"You still want to?" He raises his eyebrows at me.

I smile. "Yes."

"Be right back," He kisses my cheek.

I am left standing in Paul's kitchen as he climbs the stairs towards his room, wondering what on earth he is has to get and if we'll do it on the bed or the couch and what it will feel like and what sounds I should make and what position we will- Oh God! I drop my head into my hands and shake my head. I need to talk some sense into myself.

I go into the guest bathroom on the main floor and close the door behind me. I switch the light and take a deep breath of myself in the mirror. "Really Scarlett?" I whisper to myself when I realize how bright red my cheeks are. We aren't even having sex yet and I look some kind of creature with red skin!

I turn on the water to cold water and nervously splash it on my face. I run my fingers through my natural, lose waves and thank the Lord above for some great hair at a time like this. I take a deep breath and watch as my lips curve into an O. I blush and look away.

Dear God.

I take a step back and accidentally trip on something. I manage to catch myself before I face plant into the tile floor- way to go Scarlett- and then moan to myself as I let myself lay flat on the tile and stare up at the ceiling.

"I am a walking catastrophe," I sigh.

I turn to get up when I suddenly notice what exactly I fell on. I look at the small, black bag and squint my eyes. Renesmee had packed up all of my stuff and then left it upstairs in Paul's room, in fact, I don't think I've ever seen this bag before.

I slowly tug on the zipper and a small index card flies out and floats to the floor. I pick it up to see Nessie's familiar, loopy yet somehow never sloppy handwriting. _Alice said you would need this ;) Have fun!_

I cock my head and re-read the note over and over again, waiting for something to click though nothing ever comes.

What the hell does that mean?

Suddenly realizing that I don't have much time and Paul will be down any minute, I quickly zip open the rest of the bag and the pull it open. I gasp, my mouth dropping and an incomprehensible, nervous sound making its way from my throat out of my mouth.

I nervously lean in, as if by touching it, I will somehow wake up from a dream. At least five different colors of lace stare me back in the face. Laces and tools and see-through lingerie sets fill every inch of the bag.

I pick a sheer, black lace night gown up and gasp, dropping it immediately.

"What the f-," I stammer, looking from the door and then back to the bag. But how had she known?

I hear footsteps on the stairs and jump up. I go to close it, suddenly nervous that Paul would see it, when I stop myself. Is this over the top? Yes. Is this entirely creepy and freaky that she knew that I would be having sex tonight? Double yes. Will I be grilling her about this later? Oh hell yes. But would it make any sense to go out there in a tee-shirt and shorts just because I am freaked out at Renesmee? No.

I really don't think so.

I dig through the bag until I find a white, lace bra with a shear covering for the stomach. I find the matching panties, a small piece of something white and _tiny_ , and slip both pieces on. I take a look at myself in the mirror for only a second; I don't want to see myself and talk myself out of this. I switch the light off and close my eyes, attempting to get my breathing under control for a second time. I open the door and step out into the hallway.

The lights are off.

The lights are off and the fire place is on and there are pillows and blankets and more pillows and blankets littering the ground in front of it. And then I notice Paul. He looks as if he was in the middle of walking towards me, probably to check if I was alright, and then stopped once I emerged. His lips are parted and his eyes are anywhere but my face. His gaze keeps dropping, his eyes ravenously taking in every piece of my body in this new lingerie before he forces himself to look away only to start all over again.

I readjust my feet and then cross my arms overtop of my chest. My nervousness seems to get his attention. Paul finally breaks from looking at my body to instead look at my face, which doesn't really do much for me in aiding in the nervousness department.

"Scarlett," Paul smiles, just barely shaking his head. "You're perfect."

I blush. "Thank you."

He reaches out his hand and I gulp at it. Oh, right, now I should probably touch him. "Will you come here?" He asks sweetly.

I nod my head gently and then keep my arms crossed overtop of my chest as I slowly walk to him. I let my arms drop when I place my hand in his and he pulls me to his chest.

I nervously peer up at his face, only to see his eyes burning into mine. "Are you okay?" He asks, examining my eyes closely.

"Yes, Paul," I blush.

"Are you sure you still want to?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes! Now stop asking me that! I'm just nervous, okay?"

Paul smiles. "Okay." He pulls my face close to his and almost the instant our lips touch I lose myself. He tastes like candy and feels like fire and smells like fresh laundry. My head is spinning, like actually freaking spinning, as I timidly press my hands into his bare chest.

Before I have a chance to even contemplate what is happening, Paul is pulling me back with him. I stumble, I stumble because I am clumsy and because I am extra clumsy when Paul is kissing me. I feel his hands slide along my back and then I his other arm wrap underneath my legs.

He lowers me onto the thick blankets and pulls a pillow underneath my head without ever breaking the kiss. Now _this_ is Paul Lahote.

His lips find my neck, and I turn away from him, if only to extend my neck and give him a greater area to please. He is waiting for me, though. Paul's hand is already cupped as he takes the side of my face in his palm and strokes his thumb along my cheek.

He sucks on the between my neck and chest and I moan.

"That's it, baby," He kisses me lower, right between my breasts where the fabric of my night gown starts and I take an unsteady breath.

Holy _shit._

Paul's hot, hot fingers feel their way to the edge of my sheer top and then he strokes my stomach underneath it. "Can I take this off?" He asks gently.

I mumble a yes.

His fingers are delicate yet deliberate as he skims them up my sides, and then pulls it overtop of my head.

I am left completely naked from the waist up, though I am too far gone to really care; Paul has already seem me naked, anyways. Only, it has been _so long_. I am leaning up in the air, practically begging for him to take me. My body is filled with this Paul centered adrenaline that shoots through my veins and demands for Paul to kiss it out.

Thankfully, I don't have to wait in agony for much longer.

Paul dips his face and takes my nipple into his mouth.

A rush of relief floods through my entire body as I sigh loudly. I knew what was coming, but it has been so long that I nearly forgot how insanely amazing it felt. His tongue flicks it up and down and side to side and wow oh wow am I not prepared in any way for how good this feels.

I want him so badly I could scream.

I reach for his shorts.

Paul quickly grasps my wrists and pulls them overtop of my head, pinning me to the floor as he sucks me some more.

He encloses his teeth around my center and gently pulls.

I gasp and lurch up. He tugged hard enough to make me gasp but not hard enough to actually hurt me. Dear Lord this guy is a God.

"I'm in charge, baby girl," He tells me gently as he kisses a trail from the boob he was just working on to the next. "This is all about you."

I moan. "If it's about me than you should stop teasing me."

He chuckles, flicking my other nipple with his tongue and then sucking on it harshly.

"Ohhh," I drop my head to the ground and close my eyes.

"I'm not teasing you," Paul breaks only to continue sucking me. "I'm _pleasing_ you."

I breathe a yes a sure a who the hell knows response because _holy hell_ this feels so freaking good.

He does that same thing where he bites and then tugs on it and I swear my heart explodes in my chest and I completely forget what day it is or what year it is or what planet I am on.

"Paul," I moan between gritted teeth.

"Okay, okay," He pulls away from me and then smiles knowingly as he rubs his thumbs against both of my nipples and then squeezes my breasts in his hands.

"Sorry," He kisses both nipples. "I love these. These are mine."

I smile. "They are."

Paul's fingers trail down my stomach and loop underneath of my underwear. "Can I take these off, baby?"

I nod my head.

He drops his head and kisses my newly exposed skin, removing my underwear in the most painfully slow way that I swear lasts an hour. His lips devour every new inch of skin that becomes exposed, and eventually his mouth is right on top of the very spot that is aching with heat for him. Now I know what he can do here, but God am I ready for it.

He sucks on me and then pulls away with a moan.

"You're so wet, baby."

"Mmmm," I moan at the ceiling. Could he stop with all the dirty talk? Does he not see that I am trying with every ounce of my being to control myself and refrain from lunging at him and screaming out explicates and orgasming right here and right now? All this sexy, Paul dirty talk is pushing me over the edge!

He licks a path up and then down my center and I moan openly. It should be illegal for something to feel this good.

He smiles against me, kisses that particularly sensitive spot at the top, and then lifts himself up so that he is holding himself overtop of me. He leans down and I wrap my arms around his neck, just wanting to feel him this close. Paul tangles his fingers in the top of my hair and breathes into my neck.

"Are you ready, beautiful?"

My heart hammers in my chest at a million beats per millisecond.

"Yes," I breathe, my voice barely comprehensible.

He lifts himself up and then smiles down at me. "Close your eyes," He instructs me, his voice deep and sexy and wooo I am swooning.

I close my eyes, not only because he is definitely calling the shots because I quite honestly am way too turned on and crazed to do anything else, but because I am spinning and the darkness helps that.

I don't know for sure what he is doing, but I can definitely guess. He maneuvers his boxers off and I hear them land a few feet away from us. I hear plastic rip open and then there is a silence when I imagine him rolling it overtop of himself. I blush.

Is this really happening?

I hear something else open and then feel his fingers slide against my opening. I gasp and open my eyes.

"Close your eyes," He instructs, his voice stern.

I take a deep breath and do as I am told. For some reason, I feel as if he doesn't want me to see what he is doing. I trust him, regardless, and knowing me, he is probably just trying to keep me from getting embarrassed.

"You can open them now," He kisses my lower abdomen as I bite my lip and finally look down at him. Paul is wiping his fingers on one of the blankets, leaving behind a wet stain. I scrunch my eyes at him but lose my train of thought when he climbs on top of me.

"You ready, baby," Paul strokes his fingers against my hair and I feel the faint residue of whatever he put on me remain on my face.

I nod my head and take a deep breath of his scent.

"You have to tell me if it hurts, do you understand." His breath is hot in my ear.

I moan. Just _that_ was enough to make my body quiver. "Yes."

He kisses me softly. "Promise?"

I nod my head.

He reaches down and I suddenly feel the tip of him rubbing against me. It is slippery and soft and smooth and _wow_ does that feel good. He isn't at my opening, but instead he is rubbing above it, getting me turned on and turned on and whew is it hot in here.

"It's going to feel weird at first," Paul tells me gently. I feel him pressing in at my opening and gasp. He presses in a little farther and I jump.

"It's tight," I tell him, my breathing fast and quick.

Paul nods and drops his head to kiss me. "You're small," He tells me simply. Paul kisses me like this for a while, just the tip of him pressing into me, no part yet inside, as I slowly loosen the tension in my legs and completely lose myself in his lips.

He pushes himself a little farther in and I gasp.

"Am I hurting you?" Paul asks.

"Not necessarily," I reply with a shaky voice, which is the truth. It doesn't necessarily hurt, it more feels like I am stretching. Honestly, it is not what I thought it was going to be, but he isn't even inside of me yet.

Paul latches his hands on my sides and positions himself just right.

"Don't tense," He gently rubs the insides of my thighs. "Relax, baby girl."

I take a deep breath and let my head lower back onto the pillow. I look up at the ceiling and close my eyes.

"Trust me, okay?" He asks after a moment, his hands re-clasped around my waist.

"I trust you," I breathe quickly.

Paul pushes himself inside of me. I jump up, my mouth falling open and my lower half feeling like it just ripped apart. It was smooth, it was quick and it was extremely slick, even though that sounds kind of disturbing.

Paul is inside of me; I mean, he is _really_ inside of me. I look down to see that only a small part of him is still out, and then I blush for seeing Paul naked—then I realize that he is _inside of me_ so I shouldn't really be all that sensitive about seeing him nude.

"Are you okay, baby?" Paul wraps his arms around my back and pulls me up to hold me to him.

I nod into his shoulder. "Yes."

"Did I hurt you?" He asks gently.

"I don't think so," I take a steadying breath. "It doesn't really _hurt._ "

Paul kisses the side of my head. "Still trust me? I promise I'll make this quick."

I nod. "Yes," I speak, closing my eyes tightly.

"Scarlett," He reprimands me. "I told you don't tense." He pats my thighs and I sigh and try to lose the tension in them completely.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Paul smiles into my skin. "I'm inside of you, and you feel fucking amazing."

I blush. "Paul."

He kisses my neck and then pulls himself out and then back in again. It is weird, because though he is slow he is also fast and fluid.

"How does that feel?" He asks again, his voice gentle.

I bite the corner of my lip.

"Hang on," Paul cups my hips between his hands and adjusts my position. He moves in and out. Once. I feel something rip… and I scrunch my face in pain.

"Ouch," I whimper, my back arched in an uncomfortable position and my entire body tensed.

"I'm sorry," Paul strokes my hair and pulls himself out of me. One would think that, that would give me some relief, but the aching pain radiating through my abdomen and thighs is still ever-present.

I notice him wiping himself off on a nearby blanket and my eyes nearly bug out of my chest when I see blood.

"Ugh, Paul?" I begin nervously.

Paul smiles and pulls himself overtop of me. "It's normal, baby." He kisses me gently and sucks on my lower lip. "Are you done? We can be done if you want to."

I narrow my eyes at him. "What?"

"It's okay, Scarlett," He strokes my stomach. "I could do other things for you."

"Wh- Paul," I complain. "No. No!"

"Okay, okay," He laughs gently and kisses my neck. "Ugh, Scarlett. You have no idea how amazing you feel."

I blush and wrap my arms around my neck.

"Don't tense up," He tells me for a third time.

"Okay," I whisper.

"Close your eyes again," Paul tells me.

"No."

"Fine."

Paul reaches for a tube of something that was obstructed from my view and then twists the lid off, scooping some of it up and then rubbing it all over the length of him.

My mouth drops. "What is that?'

"I told you I wasn't going to hurt you," Paul wipes his hand off and throws the tube away. "It's my job to take care of you. Now take a deep breath."

I do as I am told and then on the exhale he is inside of me again, only, this time it feels different. It isn't incredible in the least, but it doesn't feel so freaking _tight_ anymore. It aches slightly from when it tore, but now it feels like we fit much better.

Paul begins moving inside of me, slowly and gently. "Is this okay?" He asks timidly.

"Yes," I speak, my breathing picking up again.

Paul seems to notice, and I watch him tense while forcing himself not to go faster, which I am very grateful for.

"Ugh, fuck, Scarlett," Paul drops his head and takes a deep breath. "You're so fucking sexy."

I moan and wrap my arms around his neck. "Mmm," I bite the corner of my lip.

"Is this good, baby?" Paul asks, though now he is much more breathless than before. I notice his muscles tensing and a vein in his neck popping and hold onto him tighter.

"Yes," I breathe into his neck.

Paul moves a little bit faster, though his pace remains the same. After a while, that feeling of pain completely fades, and I am left with this weird, good, _extremely good_ , feeling filling me completely.

It doesn't feel like when he would use his mouth, not at all actually, but it feels good in a different way.

My mouth drops and I let out a moan, which Paul seems to like.

"Yes, baby," He lowers me back onto the floor and cups my head in his hands. "Yes."

He is breathing into my mouth as I am breathing into his, and I suddenly feel as if we are one person. My eyes close as I become overwhelmed with these amazing, new feelings that are surging through my veins at hyper speed.

Suddenly, he thrusts into me a little deeper, hitting a certain spot, and I moan so loud I feel like I can't control myself anymore.

"Paul," I gasp, my back tilting in an arch on the floor. "Oooh."

"Fuck."

Paul tenses. He tenses and then he immediately idles inside of me.

"Don't stop," I complain. "I'm fine." My breathing is so heavy I can barely understand myself. "Paul I'm fine."

"It's not you," Paul laughs and kisses my cheek. "I'm about to cum."

"Oh." My eyes pop and I feel myself blush as I look up at him. "But it's been like thirty seconds."

"Don't be an asshole," Paul laughs. "You're fucking ridiculous."

"What does that mean?"

Paul rolls his eyes at how nervous I sound. "You're fucking sexy, baby. So fucking sexy," He laughs lowly in my ear. "You have no idea."

I giggle as he nuzzles his face into my neck and sucks on the skin there.

"Mmmm," I mumble.

Paul's fingers slide down to that spot that he usually sucks on and he begins rubbing me. I gasp as he works against me, his fingers quick yet light and gentle, as he quickly brings me to my peak.

He starts moving inside of me when I am oh, so close, and _God_ does that feel good.

"Paul!" I grip his shoulders between my hands and don't even worry if I am squeezing too hard. "Paul," I moan, my mouth hanging open. I am left dangling on a fucking cliff, though this time.

"Yeah, baby." He is breathing quickly and his face is contorted and suddenly I am about to cum but I think he is about to, too.

 _Yes, yes, YES._

My body quivers and I find myself tightening around him inside of me, shaking around him and trembling over and over and over again.

"Ohhhh," My eyes roll into the back of my head as I shake involuntarily. I am too caught in a bliss-land to even be able to think about attempting to hold back my shakes.

Paul makes a sound that is a moan and whimper and I tilt my arch back down a little to see his face contorted in what must be pleasure. His eyes are closed and he isn't moving inside of me anymore, and I am so pleased I don't even want for him to anymore.

Paul slowly pulls out of me and I watch, attempting to slow down my breaths, as I watch him pull the condom off of himself and discard it.

"Oh, Scarlett." Paul lowers himself back on top of me and then begins kissing me. "Did I hurt you?" He asks, his voice thick with worry. Paul kisses the bruises on my stomach, and then he does the same with the healing ones on my face. Finally, he moves down to my thighs and begins expecting them, to my severe embarrassment.

"Paul!" I complain with a nervous giggle.

He pulls my thigh open and rubs the back of his fingers along the bend there. "Are you hurt?" He asks again.

"No," I giggle. "Not at all!"

Paul doesn't appear convinced. He runs his palm all the way down the inside of both of my thighs and leans in close to make sure that there aren't any obvious injuries.

"Paul!" I reach for his shoulders and he finally looks at me. I can't help but smile widely; I can't believe what we just did!

It takes a few seconds, but eventually his lips pull up at the corners. Suddenly, he grabs me and rolls me on top of him.

"Paul!" I giggle ridiculously. I look down at myself and then look back up at him, blushing like an idiot. "I'm naked!"

"I know! It's great!" Paul says with a happy, goofy grin on his face.

"Shut up!" I laugh and roll off of him.

"Oh, Scarlett. Scarlett. _Scarlett!_ " Paul grabs his head and shakes it violently.

"Ugh," I look at him nervously. "Did I break you?"

"Yes," He moans and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. I giggle as I rest my cheek against his bare chest and cuddle in close to him. "Here baby," He murmurs in my hair as he wraps a blanket around us. I smile, my eyes catching on pieces of orange crackling in the fire. "You did fucking break me Scarlett," He kisses my forehead. "In the best way. I've never experienced something like that before. Now I am convinced that you are trying to kill me."

I giggle. "Oh no! You figured it out!" I rest my elbow on his chest and drop my cheek into my hand.

"Ugh," Paul moans loudly and runs his fingers through my hair. "You have no idea what you just did." He breathes a laugh. "I fucking worship you. I'm a slave to you, Scarlett."

"Okay," I roll my eyes. "I think you're being dramatic."

"No."

He flips me back over so that he is on top of me and I laugh hysterically. "Paul!" I complain with a giggle, though suddenly when I realize how close his face is to mine and how his eyes are beating into mine so intensely, my laughs quickly die down.

"Scarlett," Paul whispers. He reaches to touch my face but then stops, holding his fingers overtop of my skin. "You are so perfect, baby." His head drops and he shakes his head. "So, so perfect. I don't deserve you."

"Yes you do," I demand.

"No I don't," Paul moans.

"Yes you do," I sigh. "You're the sweetest man I've ever met. You take care of me. I've never had someone take care of me before." He lifts his face and I blush. "That felt really good, Paul."

His eyes crinkle in the corners. "Really?"

I nod and bite the corner of my lip. "I never knew something could feel like that… I never knew that my body could feel so… good." I giggle. "It's crazy."

"I'm so happy to hear you say that," Paul sighs. "I want to make you feel like that for the rest of your life."

I smile. "I'm tired," I finally sigh.

Paul rolls off of me and then pulls me to his side. I rest my face against his warm chest and sigh contently. Paul begins running his fingers up and down my spine, making me shiver underneath him.

"Sleep, baby," Paul kisses the top of my head gently.

I smile. Like this? Don't mind if I do.

After a while my eyes close and my breathing begins to even out.

I have never felt so content in my entire life.

After a few moments I feel him stroke the back of his fingers along my cheek. "Scarlett?" He whispers, gently.

I mumble, half asleep already.

"Scarlett?" He asks again, his voice even gentler. "Are you awake?"

"P-Paul," I mumble, blinking my eyes open only for them to fall closed again.

"Scarlett, wake up, baby."

I moan and tilt my face up. "What?" I breathe, my eyes still closed.

"Although this goes against every single nerve in my body telling me not to ruin this perfect moment, I think I need to tell you something."

My eyes pop open, and I am suddenly very awake.

"What?" I sit up, pulling the covers up with me to conceal my chest. "What is it?"

Paul sighs and strokes his fingers along my cheek. "Scarlett," He smiles gently. "I need to tell you about imprinting."

Oh no.

* * *

WHEW! I have to know what you all thought! Review for an update!


	28. New Truths

Hi guys! I couldn't wait so I stayed up all night writing- hopefully I don't fail my test on Tuesday but... priorities, right?!

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

"Paul," Scarlett says again. She is clutching a blanket tight to her chest, much to my dismay, though the way that it is falling over her beautiful, bare shoulders is sexy as hell. She has worried lines plaguing her usually smooth and porcelain face.

Fuck.

Why did I do that?

Having sex with Scarlett was unlike anything I have ever felt before; hell, I came in less than a minute, which she also happened to adorably point out. And seeing her completely give herself over to me like that, and watching the way that she lost herself, I can shiver just at the sight of it.

To be honest, it wasn't even the sex that got me off so quickly. Sure, she feels fucking amazing. She was tight and wet and perfect, but the way that her blonde hair sprawled out around her, and how her mouth hung open and eyes closed and back arched and chest bounced and _ooooh._

Why did I bring this up?

"Paul," Scarlett's forehead crinkles even worse.

Finally, I take her still healing face into my hands and smile reassuringly at her. "It's not bad, sweetheart."

She gulps, not seeming to believe me in the slightest, though that is nothing unusual.

"It's really not bad," I pull her towards me and kiss her softly. "It's good, actually."

"Oh," Scarlett lets out a breath of relief and then she seems to nice how she is flashing half of her naked body to me. She blushes and then pulls the blanket tighter around her chest, before crawling to me and then resting herself in my lap. "Than tell me already," She smiles shyly and then cuddles into my chest.

I laugh gently. God, can this girl get any more perfect?

"It's kind of hard to explain," I admit. "But I'll do my best."

"Usually your best is more than good enough," She blushes and then diverts eye contact. Was she just flirting with me?

I wrap my arms tighter around her and press my lips together to keep from smiling.

I take a deep breath and try to think about what I had been planning on saying over the last couple of days of her asking.

"You know how when- well- okay, so, imprinting is… it's, it's this thing that happens with wolves- a lot more common that we all thought," I mumble and then shake my head. I am really messing this up. "It's basically like, you know when you meet your future wife? The thing is you don't know that's your future wife at the time; at the time it's just any other girl. Imprinting for a wolf, is like once you see your future wife, you _know_ that it's her."

Her eyes grow wide. "You're m-m-marrying me?"

"No!" I shout a little too loudly, causing her to jump back.

"You're not?" Her voice sounds hurt now. Shit- now you've really done it, Paul; now she thinks you don't want to marry her at all.

"Well, I mean, of course I will! But not now."

"Oh," Scarlett finally smiles. "Okay, so wait- you knew that you were going to marry me when you met me?"

"Yes," I let out a breath of relief. Finally, she is beginning to understand.

"So, like, did they give you a picture or something…?"

"What?" I almost laugh. "What? Scarlett, no. Of course not. What, you think at the age of 18 the elders just give us a file of our future girlfriends?"

She giggles. "Well I don't know! It was just a guess!"

"No," I laugh. "They don't give us pictures. It's a… feeling."

"A feeling," Scarlett contemplates that for a second. "When I met you I felt things too, you know. You don't have to be a werewolf or a vampire or any other supernatural creature to be able to do that."

I can't help but laugh. "Well that's great, sweetie. But I'm talking about a different kind of feeling."

"And what kind would that be?" Scarlett's eyes peak up mischievously and then suddenly she wraps her arms around my neck, letting the blanket that was covering her robust chest fall to her stomach.

"Oh Scarlett," I look up towards the ceiling and take a deep breath. "Can I explain this to you first, please?"

"Sure," She giggles.

I moan and lower my gaze once more to pull the blanket back overtop of her chest, concealing her ridiculously perfect breasts. "It's impossible for me to do that while you're naked."

"Sorry," She giggles again, though she seems anything but.

"When I- ugh, this is really hard to explain without sounding really creepy."

Scarlett appears quite petrified. "You weren't stalking me or anything, were you?"

"No," I moan- you know what, screw it. "The first time I saw you, I thought you were crazy hot. Like, _crazy hot_. But then when you looked at me, even before I really got to know you, something changed. I knew right then what happened even though I can't explain what I felt. I just wanted to protect you, and I always wanted you to smile, and I never wanted anyone to hurt you, ever again."

Her face crawls into a timid, gentle smile. "What are you talking about, Paul?"

I sigh. "You know how Jacob is with Nessie, and Jared is with Kim, and Emily with Paul?"

She nods.

"Well, that is because they _imprinted_ on them."

"Okay," Scarlett nods. "What is imprinting?"

I groan. "I thought I was explaining it."

She chuckles. "Not at all."

"Okay, do you think it would be okay if I told you what happened with Jacob and Nessie so maybe you could understand and then I could talk about us?"

"Okay?" She appears completely confused, but thankfully she agrees.

"So Jacob has known Renesmee's family for a while."

"Yeah I know," Nessie nods her head adamantly. "He used to have a thing for Nessie's mom, she told me. Also, that's really creepy, by the way."

I laugh- she has no idea. "So, when Renesmee was born, there were a lot of… complications. Bella had Renesmee when she was still human, and because Nessie was a half-vampire, it was really hard on her. She ended up dying in child-birth."

"B-but that doesn't even make any sense," Scarlett argues. "Mrs. Cullen is alive. I see her all the time!"

"That's because Renesmee's dad changed her into a vampire at the last minute, but, not before Jacob thought that she had died. Jacob was so, _upset_ and angry, that his immediate thought was to kill the thing that had killed her."

Scarlett gasps. "He tried to kill Nessie?"

"No," I shake my head. "He _wanted_ to kill her. He was going to, but when he saw her; when he _looked_ at her and their eyes met, something changed."

"What do you mean something changed?" Scarlett asks. "R-Renesmee was just a baby."

I cringe. "The imprint isn't just about a relationship, or a marriage or a physical bond. It's like, the world revolved around Jacob, but when he imprinted on Renesmee, it revolved around her. He would be anything that she needed, and when she was young that was a protector, and then as she got older a friend, and only when she was entirely ready, and feeling the same feelings that he felt, anything more."

Scarlett's eyes are wide and her mouth is parted. "Jacob fell in love with Renesmee... as a baby?"

"No he didn't fall in love with her," I moan. "He _loved_ her, but not like that. That's what I'm trying to say; the imprint is that we show love based on what our imprint needs."

"So… he didn't. Like, he didn't feel…,"

"No!" I interrupt her before she can go any further. "Not at all. It wasn't like that. He loved her like a big brother, because that is how _she_ loved him. The imprint kind of connects the two people; he would have never started feeling romantic feelings for Nessie if she wasn't thinking them about him."

I watch as she takes in all the new, kind of freaky information. I know that imprinting can come off as really pedophile like if not explained correctly, but now that _I_ have imprinted, I understand just how opposite of that it really is.

I timidly run my fingers through the side of her hair. "So," She begins slowly, breaking to clear her throat. "You did that… to me?"

I nod my head.

"But why didn't you when I was a baby?"

I cringe.

"I don't know, Scarlett. I guess because I had never met you yet. I wonder about that all the time though. I'm sorry."

Scarlett looks at me funny. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because I should have protected you," I shake my head angrily. "If I had imprinted on you when you were younger I could have- I could have-,"

"Paul," Scarlett stops me, placing her hand on my chest. "That's not what I was thinking at all. I was just confused. I don't want you to feel guilty about that. It was out of both of our control."

I nod my head, swallowing down the self-pity and anger that I feel; this is about her.

"Do you have any questions?" I ask gently.

"I-I- so," Scarlett sighs. "So does this mean that you love because you imprinted on me?" I can tell from the way that her jaw is tensing that she is struggling not to cry.

I nearly gasp. "What? Baby," I cup her face between my hands. "Of course not! Of course not. The imprint made me aware of your… needs. I could tell that you were sad; it made me sad. I could tell when you needed a friend and I could tell that something had hurt you," My jaw tenses. "But I fell in love with you all on my own, which wasn't very hard to do considering you are _you._ "

Scarlett swallows. "What is that supposed to mean?"

I roll my eyes. "You're very easy to love, Scarlett."

Her face falls. "T-that's," She gulps and I see tears condense in the corners of her eyes. "I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

I swallow down a lump that suddenly forms in my throat and pull her to me. Scarlett wraps her arms around my neck, and my arms hold the blanket up for her as they wrap around her back.

Of course that would mean a lot to her; she basically spent her entire life wondering why no one loved her enough to even be kind to her; wondering why they hated enough to hurt her like that. She nuzzles her face into my neck and I kiss the side of her head.

"I love you, Scarlett," I tell her softly.

"I love you too, Paul," I hear her muffled voice.

"Do you understand imprinting?" I run my fingers up and down her spine, overtop of the blanket.

"I think so," Scarlett yawns into my chest. "I don't know. Maybe."

I smile. "I can explain it more to you tomorrow."

"That's fine," She pulls away from me and sighs. I am happy to see that she no longer appears on the verge of tears. "But I want something."

I almost laugh. "Anything."

Scarlett smiles sheepishly. "Can I see you? As a wolf?"

My eyes shoot up. "Really?"

She bites the corner of her lip and nods.

"You're not," I gulp, "Scared?"

She rolls her eyes. "You ask me that a lot and it confuses me because you could never scare me. You don't scare me, Paul, or hurt me or whatever else you're so worried about doing. You fix me."

I smile and run my fingers through the side of her hair. "Are you sure you're not too tired? You're still on a lot of medicine, and you really… exerted yourself tonight."

Scarlett blushes intensely. "I'm fine!" She squeaks.

I laugh. Embarrassing Scarlett is one thing that will quite honestly never get old. I find my boxers and slip them on as Scarlett blushes again and turns away. I was just _inside_ of her, yet I truly have no idea if she was too embarrassed or not to actually look at that part of me. I wrap the blanket protectively overtop of her skinny shoulders and pull her into my arms.

"Where are we going?" Scarlett giggles. "You know people will probably take note of a six foot five man turning into an animal in their backyard."

I roll my eyes. "There is a spot a little ways through the woods that is pretty concealed. I phase in there a lot."

"Phase," Scarlett giggles. "So what do you do when you _phase_ , hm? Just run around and play fetch?"

"You know what, just be quiet little girl."

She laughs wildly and then presses her cheek into my chest. "Seriously though, what's the point?"

"Protecting human life," I shrug. "No big deal."

Scarlett giggles. "So what, if someone is about to get hit by a car do you like jump in front of them?"

"Not necessarily," I reply. "Though I am sure we would if we ever witnessed that. It's more, protection from other supernatural entities."

"Right," She nods her head "The blood-suckers."

I look down at her in shock. "Where did you hear that word?"

She shrugs. "Embry."

I roll my eyes. "We try not to call them that anymore. Especially with Nessie."

"100 bucks you used to call them that all the time before you did that creepy imprint thing on me and I became best friends with one."

I stifle a laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Where do you go when you phase?" She pushes.

"We usually take a rotation," I tell her, "But it changes based on where we feel we need to be." Now I am actually the one to grow a little bit embarrassed. "I used to keep guard outside your house when you would sleep."

"You did?" Scarlett asks, her mouth dropping a little bit.

"Yeah," I reply quietly. "I hope that's okay. I'm sorry."

"No it's okay," She answers quickly, a smile playing on those beautiful, plush lips. "It makes me feel kind of… safe." Her face drops then. "So, did you hear me have nightmares then?"

My joints stiffen. "Sometimes," I answer honestly.

"Oh," Her shoulders slump.

"Hey," I bounce her in my arms and she squeals to keep the blanket from falling off of her. She peers around at the houses fading in the background behind us as I walk her into the woods with a worried expression on her face.

"Lahote! There are people out there! They're going to see me naked if you don't stop!"

I growl and pull her closer. "No way. You're mine. I am the only one who ever gets to see you naked."

"Would now be a bad time to tell you that I am secretly a web-cam girl in my spare time?"

"Shut up," I roll my eyes.

Scarlett giggles. "Are we there yet?"

"Just about," I smile down at her. "Are you sure you're not scared?"

"Nope," She pops the "P" at the end. "I've dealt with a real monster before, you're like the fun, animated version." She giggles and I force a smile, though all I am thinking is _that isn't funny… not at all._

"Scarlett," I sigh. "Please don't talk like that."

"Why?" She asks, her voice teetering on boredom. "He's dead, right?"

I gulp. I have never heard her be so blunt about her step-father's demise before, though everyone knew what became of him.

I nod my head.

"Do you know what happened to your dad?" She asks quietly.

I stop walking for a second, completely shocked; I hadn't been expecting that question, especially from my little Scarlett. I swallow down whatever fucked up feelings are still lingering from my childhood and shrug.

"Who knows."

"Don't do that," Scarlett lifts herself up in my arms and narrows her eyes at me. I blink at her. "Don't act like it doesn't bother you. I told you all about what my parents did to me," She looks away for a second before regaining her composure. "I tell you my deep, dark secrets yet I don't know any of yours."

"Scarlett," I sigh. "You know I'm a werewolf."

"A bunch of people know you're a werewolf," She points out.

I shake my head. "It's hard to talk about him, okay? I dealt with that a long time ago; bringing it back up is like trudging up a lot of old feelings that I have no desire to deal with."

Scarlett sighs and rests her head on my chest. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of her hair. Scarlett says that she feels safe when I hold her, but what she may not know is that my safe place is when I am holding _her_.

"I just wish you would talk to me, is all," She says quietly.

"Scarlett," I tighten my arms around her. "I do talk to you, baby. I just don't- those problems with your parents were present problems. You were still very much being affected by what happened to you, that's why we had to deal with them. What happened with my dad happened years ago, and he didn't hurt me, he just left me."

Scarlett picks her head up. "But he hurt your mom."

I tense my jaw. "Yes he did," I speak between gritted teeth.

"Does that… make you want to hurt him?" Scarlett asks quietly, her voice too innocent and too sweet to be talking about murder.

"Yes," I sigh, and I feel myself giving into this little piece of heaven in my arms. "Sometimes I wonder if he would have hurt me too if he had stuck around."

Scarlett frowns. "That makes me sad, thinking about that."

I smile, though it is a sad one. "Now you can understand just a little bit of how I feel about you."

She remains quiet for a moment, contemplating this.

I reach the spot that I planned for me to phase for her and slowly set her on the ground. One of her shoulders is exposed with the blanket draping overtop of her collarbone. I smile faintly as I run my finger along the bone. Scarlett shakes.

"You know what's funny?"

Scarlett shakes her head.

"I used to be so scared of becoming him. I was so scared of becoming him that I fought against any type of relationship. If I wasn't close to anyone I couldn't hurt anyone, you know? And what's funny is that by being an ass to all those girls, it's kind of like I did become him."

Scarlett blinks at me a few times before she finally shakes her head. "I'm sorry, but that's just ridiculous. I don't think you realize how amazing you are."

I laugh. "Just for you, sweetheart."

"Yeah but just for me is better than your dad ever was and ever will be." She smiles brilliantly. I take a mental snapshot. Scarlett is just beautiful, just truly beautiful in every sense. "You're ten times the man he is!"

"You're sweet, Scarlett."

"No I'm really not sweet. I'm not. I'm blunt and sarcastic. I'm just being honest."

I laugh. "Are you ready to see me turn into a wolf now or would you like to be my therapist for a while longer?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't be annoying."

I chuckle as I stand up.

I walk to the farthest point in this little bare circle completely concealed by trees and turn to face her. "Don't move," I instruct, my voice hard and demanding.

Scarlett nods her head, her eyes wide.

"I'm serious, Scarlett," I state.

"I won't move," She squeaks, pulling the blanket tighter around her naked body.

"If you get scared just tell me. I'll phase back. Alright?"

She nods her head.

I lean down and in one, swift motion pull my boxers off and kick them to the side. I hear a tiny gasp and then look over to see Scarlett's eyes trained on the newly exposed part of my body. Fuck. I forgot how seeing her looking all sexy and nude, I still had a slight boner.

Scarlett notices me watching her and then tears her eyes away, her cheeks flushing with red so quickly I wonder how that isn't painful, as she blinks her eyes rapidly.

"Scarlett," I smile to myself. "It's okay, honey. You're allowed to look."

Scarlett giggles nervously. "I know," She whispers.

When she doesn't make any inclination to look I stifle a laugh and then take a deep breath. "Ready?" I ask her.

Scarlett blushes towards the ground. "Yes."

Before I have a chance to talk myself out of doing something that has even a 0.01% chance of hurting her in any way, I jump into the air and shift.

Scarlett screams, or at least I think she screamed in the bustle of my shift. I land on the ground and look over at her to see her eyes wide and her mouth dropped and her blanket on the ground. She is sitting up with her entire body exposed. I moan, which comes out as a high-pitched dog whine.

Scarlett gasps again. I notice fear in her eyes as she takes me in, and just when I am about to shift back, her eyes connect with mine.

I watch them soften right before my very eyes.

"Paul?" She asks softly.

I whine and slowly walk over to her, my head bowed. I want to show her that this is still me, and that I would never, ever, ever hurt her; if anything I would jump in front of a moving train to protect her.

I stop right in front of her and then rest my head on the floor. I wait, my eyes closed and head dipped, and surely enough, after a few minutes, I feel her soft fingers gently brush against my fur.

She gasps and pulls away, but then she touches me again. "This is… incredible," She breathes.

The next time she runs her fingers against the fur on my head I lean into her, for it feels ridiculously good.

"Woah," Scarlett laughs and then pulls away. I drop my head again and she timidly begins petting me once more. "Wow," She whispers.

I lift my face to meet hers, though I see her eyes go wide with fear. "I-I think I would like you to change back now," She pulls her hand back and cowers underneath my frame. Shit. _Shit._

I hadn't realized how terrifying it might be for her to be face to face with a giant wolf. For me it felt comforting to be that close to her, but for her it was probably scary as hell.

I slowly back away from her and then shift when I put enough distance between us to make sure that I won't hurt her. I quickly slip on my boxers and then rush over to her.

"Hey," I gently cup her face in my hands and then stroke her skin over and over again. "It's okay, Scarlett. Are you okay?"

"Y-Yes," She nods her head, though her eyes are still wide.

I notice that her blanket is still dropped and reach down to pull it tightly overtop of her body again.

"I'm sorry I scared you," I murmur to her. "You don't have to see that again until you want to," I reassure her.

"Y-you're beautiful," Scarlett murmurs, still in her trance.

I run my hand along the side of her face and then pull her chin towards me. "Scarlett," I speak slowly.

She blinks a few times, but then suddenly she pulls away, and her eyes focus on me. "Wow," Is all the says.

I smile. "Are you okay baby girl?"

Scarlett blushes, of course. "Yes," She smiles widely. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you," I laugh.

"No really," Scarlett grabs my arm. "You are. Like, really beautiful." She giggles to herself. "This is crazy."

I roll my eyes and pull her into my arms. "Let's get you to bed, shall we?"

"We shall not," She swings her legs in the air. "I feel exhilarated!"

I laugh. "Next time I'll let you ride me."

She chokes on something invisible. I burst out laughing, immediately understanding the accidental, dirty joke. "Not like that," I laugh. "But of course you can do that too, if you want."

Scarlett blushes. "Paul," She mumbles.

I laugh. "Shhh, it's okay. Don't get embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed," She grumbles angrily.

I suppress a laugh. "Right."

"Are you taking me to bed now?" Scarlett's head falls against my shoulder.

I run my lips along her forehead. "Right now."

"Will you, sleep with me?" She asks, her voice timid and nervous.

I can't help my body from reacting to her words. After being inside of her for that short time, I feel like an addict, and Scarlett is my drug. I have never felt something so intensely pleasing in my whole fucking life, and now she is asking to sleep with me… again.

"I think you need to go to bed," I manage to force out of my mouth, though my body is screaming _no, no, no!_

"You're probably right," Scarlett sighs. "My brain is saying 'stay awake' but the drugs are saying 'go to sleep'."

I laugh. "I know, honey. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Don't be," Scarlett yawns. "In one night I lost my virginity, saw a real life werewolf, and learned about falling in love with babies. This has been the craziest day of my life!"

I laugh and hold her close to me. "So inaccurate about the baby thing but I'll let it slide."

"Good," She mumbles sleepily against my chest.

The rest of the way back to my apartment is a silent trip. I let her drift off into sleep in my arms and then immediately bring her up to my bedroom. I rest her underneath the covers and allow myself a stolen glance at her perfect, naked body before she rolls over and I get a view of her perfect, naked ass. I shake to myself as I throw the blanket she had brought with her outside on a chair by my bed and then tuck the covers in around her.

I have imagined this moment, sleeping beside Scarlett's naked body. Holding her bare back in my hand as she slept. Feeling her chest pressing into me as her shoulders moved in a gentle rhythm.

If my favorite thing in the world, aside from having sex with her, is sleeping with her, I wonder what sleeping with her without clothes on is going to feel like.

Before I allow myself to indulge on the thought, I quickly rush downstairs to put out the fire in the fireplace and then clean up the condom and lube. I look down at the bottle in my hand before I bring it back upstairs and hide it in my nightstand; I knew that, that would embarrass her, which is why I was so adamant on her keeping her eyes closed. She was just so _tiny_ , and I knew that if I didn't use it, it would have really hurt. I didn't want Scarlett's first time to be painful, I wanted it to be pleasant, and I think from the way she came around me it was.

I switch the lamp off and then crawl into bed. As soon as I pull the covers up Scarlett is reaching for me. I take her hands and pull her close to me with one swift movement, wrapping her arms around my neck as we lie on our sides. She burries her face in my chest as I take deep breaths of her hair.

"Goodnight, Paul," She sighs into my body.

I press my hands into her back and kiss her forehead. "Goodnight, my Scarlett."

I feel her smile against my skin until she falls asleep.

* * *

It is 1:08 in the afternoon.

It is 1:08 in the afternoon, and Scarlett is still sleeping, though that really isn't bothering me.

She is still healing, and I know that her body went through a lot yesterday. I shiver at the mere memory. I had stayed in bed with her for as long as I possibly could until I really needed to get up and get going with my day.

I have only woken her up once, to give her, her morning pills, which basically consisted of me pulling her up and placing pills into her mouth as she mumbled something about sex and then gulped down water, sighing as she fell back to sleep; I got a good laugh about that one.

I am currently getting her batch of afternoon pills together when I hear a knock on the door.

I open it only to have a basket full of something that smells like baked goods thrown in my face.

"My grandma made muffins!" I hear little Renesmee Cullen squeak as she steps into my house, Jacob on her heels, peering apologetically over at me.

"Ugh, hi?" I sigh and close the door.

"We came to check on Scarlett," Jacob says, locking eyes with Renesmee and giving her a tight smile. She rolls her eyes, and I suddenly feel like I am missing something.

"She's good. Still sleeping."

"Oh," I see her eyebrows peak in interest. "She must have been _really_ tired. Any idea why?"

Jacob elbows her in the side though she smiles innocently at me.

"No?" I look from her and then back to Jacob. "Is everything okay?"

"How was the sex?" She finally blurts.

"Nessie," Jacob moans, rubbing his face with his hand.

"What?" She complains. "I couldn't wait any longer! And you know I wanted to ask her, but she's sleeping so I guess I'll just have to settle on Paul for now."

I blink at her, scanning my brain of any memory of Scarlett texting or calling or writing Renesmee Cullen a letter. Unless she has been secretly sleeping all this time, I feel like I am definitely out of the loop. "How did you know?" Is all I ask- no use denying it now.

"Alice," Nessie smiles happily.

"Alice," I repeat, my voice monotone.

"Yes, Alice," She rolls her eyes. "How do you think she got that little white number? You're welcome by the way."

It takes me a moment to figure out what she is referring to, but once I do my eyes widen. "Oh- well," I am not sure what to say to that. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome!" She giggles excitedly.

Jacob sighs and shakes his head.

"So was it as amazing as Alice said?"

I cringe. "I don't really like the thought of Alice Cullen watching Scarlett and I having sex."

"Well of course she didn't see _you_ , you idiot," She rolls her eyes. "Alice can't see you guys, remember? She just saw Scarlett, and how… pleased she was," She giggles.

I sigh and place my hands into my pockets. "Well, lucky for me I never have to really wonder whether Scarlett is pleased or not."

"Ah!" Nessie jumps towards me and into my arms.

"Oh?" I rub her back awkwardly before she pulls away.

"I'm so happy for you! This is amazing! Can I go up?"

"She's sleeping," I ignore everything but her question. Besides, how am I supposed to respond to someone saying they are so happy for me taking my girlfriend's virginity?

"It's like two o'clock," She pleads. "Can't I just go talk to her for a little?"

"No," I answer immediately. "She needs to sleep."

"Were you two up late last night?" She giggles. "I can't wait to ask her about this! How was it? I need details!"

"Ugh," I scratch my head and look towards Jacob, who seems to have given up at this point; if there is one thing about both of our girlfriends, it is that both of us realize that neither of us can control them. "I don't feel comfortable giving you any details, but you can feel free to ask her… when she wakes up," I am sure to add.

Renesmee scowls. "She never tells me anything."

"See," I smile, suddenly very happy with how private Scarlett is about certain aspects of our relationship. "She doesn't even want you to know."

"So not fair!" Her shoulders slump.

"Hey, did you know her birthday is on Saturday?" I ask, gladly changing the subject.

Nessie's mouth drops. " _This_ Saturday?"

"Apparently," I sigh.

"And you're telling me just now because?" She crosses her arms tightly overtop of her chest and shoots me a death glare.

"She just told me last night," I hold up my hands in defense. "And she told me she would die if I planned anything."

"She'll be fine," Nessie rolls her eyes. "Three days isn't a lot of time but it'll have to do. I'll talk to Alice and Rosalie and we'll get right on this. Do you think I could send you a sample itinerary tonight for you to okay? We're thinking surprise, right?"

I struggle to digest everything she just spewed me with. "Ugh, itinerary?"

She suddenly gasps. "I have like, no time to think up a gift! I need to go talk to her right now and get ideas. Nessie quickly turns towards the stairs off of the kitchen, though Jacob clasps his hands on her shoulders and then pulls her back.

"Alright," He sighs and kisses her head. "You dropped your muffins off now let's go. You can party plan at home."

"But-but-but," She stammers, pleading with Jacob this time. "Can't I at least just see her?"

"She's sleeping," Jacob smiles. "We'll come back. I promise. Besides, we have a birthday to plan, right?"

"I like the way you think, Jacob Black! Bye Paul," She calls out as she practically drags Jacob out the door.

I laugh. "Thanks for the muffins!" I close the door behind them.

I sigh and shake my head, laughing just a little bit to myself as I head back into the kitchen to grab her pills. If a year ago you would have told me that I would have been having sex with my beautiful girlfriend that I love, having Renesmee Cullen hug me and congratulate me about it, all while I am brining her up a batch of pills because she was just an assault victim, I actually think I would have laughed.

The funny thing about Renesmee Cullen, too, is that she couldn't be any more opposite than Scarlett. Scarlett is pessimistic, naïve and sweet, but blunt and calm and sexy too. Renesmee Cullen is sassy and hyper; she is kind but too much to handle sometimes, and she's pretty, but not sexy, to me at least.

I ascend the steps with a tray filled with medicine and some lunch, along with a muffin. To be honest, I probably could have let Nessie up to see her, but I am being admittedly selfish when it comes to her right now, and I really won't apologize for it.

Scarlett is lying underneath the covers, her face completely covered with her arms sprawled out overtop of the comforter and little pieces of white hair peaking out in every few areas. I stifle a laugh, setting the tray on the nightstand.

"Scarlett," I coax gently.

Nothing.

"Scarlett?" I run my fingers down her wrist and she grumbles, stretching her arms high over her head and letting out a high-pitched sound.

"You awake?" I laugh.

Scarlett flips the covers over her head and blinks her eyes rapidly. She finally opens them completely and then a small smile spreads over her face and a pleased murmur slips from her mouth.

"Mm," She stretches again. "Hello Lahote." Her voice is raspy and sexy and oh yeah, she doesn't have any clothes on. My eyes drop to the tips of her breasts that are exposed, and I suddenly wish that I could see more- Oh wait, I guess I can.

In one swift motion, I pull the rest of the covers off of her so that they land at her toes.

"Paul!" Scarlett squeals, attempting to cover her body with her hands.

I laugh as I watch her squirm and then pull the covers back overtop of herself, but not before I catch a sneak peak of my own, though. God, she has the _perfect_ body. Her boobs are unreal. Un-fucking-real.

"Well thank you for that," She grumbles, only half-heartedly annoyed, as she holds the covers tightly to her chest and sits up.

"Sorry, it was an accident," I shrug.

She narrows her eyes at me. "Likely story."

I laugh. "Can I ask why you aren't allowing me to see your body?"

She blushes right before my eyes." Don't start."

I climb on top of her and watch as her eyes widen two sizes too big. "You're perfect, Scarlett." I press my hands overtop of the covers, trailing them over her chest and squeezing. She gasps and bites the corner of her lip.

I laugh and pull myself off of her. "Now eat your food."

Scarlett's mouth drops and she narrows her eyes at me. "You're a tease, Lahote."

I laugh; I don't think I've ever heard that one before.

"So," Scarlett sits up and rests her back against the headboard, covering her chest with the comforter much to my dismay. "Imprinting."

"So, imprinting," I sigh and repeat her, sitting down on the side of the bed.

"I've been thinking," She begins.

"You woke up five seconds ago," I laugh.

"I was up a lot last night," She admits rather sheepishly.

"Really?" I brush some soft, stray hair out of her eyes. "I have never slept better in my life."

Scarlett giggles. "That's because you are experienced, Lahote! I've never slept with a guy naked before," She blushes, "And I kept waking up and thinking about what we did and," Her voice trails off as her face turns completely red. "Moral of the story, I was thinking a lot."

"Don't overthink it," I roll my eyes. "It was perfect. _You_ were perfect. And it'll get better, you know."

Scarlett's eyes pop. "Better?" She blurts. "How?"

I laugh. "Do you think it's painful every time?"

She blushes again. "Well, no, but- hey, quit distracting me!"

"Distracting you?" I laugh. "I'm not!"

"Yes you are," She crosses her arms overtop of her chest and narrows her eyes at me. "I decided I'm kind of mad at you."

"You did?" My face falls as I search my mind for anything that I did that might have upset her. The thought that I moved too fast or hurt her in any way flashes across my mind, immediately making me sick to my stomach.

"Scarlett," I begin slowly, not knowing what to say.

"Do you have any other secrets that you would like to get out?" Her eyes turn into slits.

"Ugh," I am taken aback. "What?"

"Secrets," Scarlett repeats again. "You promised me no more secrets and then you kept the biggest one! I wouldn't have cared about imprinting if you would have just told me." There is no denying the hurt that is prickling at the corners of her usually sexy voice.

"Scarlett," I reach for her hand though she pulls away. I try not to let that sting as much as it does. "It wasn't like I didn't want to tell you, I just didn't know how or when or what to say." I shake my head. "And I'm sorry Scar, but you were kind of a grade A flight risk for like the first couple months I knew you."

She huffs and then settles down in the covers. "Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I do," I reach for her hands and this time I don't let her pull away. "I have always trusted you, Scar, I just wasn't going to tell you something crazy like that until you were ready."

"Some would say that it is a little ironic that you waited until right after we slept together to tell me that particular secret," She raises her eyebrows at me.

I roll my eyes. Now she is just being difficult. "I had been planning on telling you in the next few days, just like I told you, but I didn't really know what to say yet. And it's not like I was expecting to have sex with you last night."

Scarlett blushes and I suppress a laugh. I still wonder in times like these how she is so comfortable saying my name and moaning loudly during sex yet the mere mention of it sends her heart rate fluttering.

"Fine." She sighs and then a small smile fills her perfect face. Much better. "But no more secrets, okay? So speak now or forever hold your peace."

I begin to reassure her when I stop to really assess if there are in fact any more secrets. "I don't think so," I finally say. "But seriously at this point if there is something else you don't know I just completely forgot."

She shoves my arm and I laugh. "Eat." I grab the tray of food and set it in her lap.

"Oooo," Her eyes grow wide at the muffin before she quickly picks it up and takes a giant bite out of the center. I shake my head and grab another one that I brought for myself, lying down on my side at her feet as I eat it. "There are wonderful," She speaks with a mouth full of muffin.

"Nessie brought them," I tell her.

"Nessie!" She pops up and then scrambles for her phone on the nightstand. "I almost forgot!"

Jeesh, I really thought she would be more private about last night.

I notice her roll her eyes. "Eighteen missed calls. She is so annoying." I notice her frantically beginning to type and clear my throat.

"Ugh, Scarlett. I think it's great that you're best friends with Nessie and all, but don't you think maybe some things should stay just between us?"

"What?" Scarlett asks absentmindedly.

"I just think that maybe you shouldn't give her all the details," I grumble.

"Paul, what?" Scarlett drops her phone and cocks her head at me. "I'm not giving her details, you freak. The last person on the world I want knowing details of my sex life is Renesmee Cullen, are you crazy?"

I laugh. "Must be."

"I'm asking her how the hell Alice knew and where the hell that bag of… _inappropriateness_ came from."

"Bag of inappropriateness?" I raise my eyebrows.

"You know that white thing I worse last night," Scarlett blushes.

"Oh," My eyebrows raise. I reach out and run my finger along her exposed collarbone. I notice her chest move quicker with breaths. "I think I do remember a little see-through nightgown, now that you mention it."

"Shut up," She giggles. "Well, Nessie left it in a bag in the downstairs bathroom with a note saying that Alice said I would need it."

"Oh," I cringe. "You know that time you made me promise no more secrets?"

"Paul!" She moans.

"It's not my secret to tell this time; it's really not! And besides, it's not really a secret, more like a detail."

Scarlett rolls her eyes and then huffs angrily as she drops her phone and flips the covers dramatically overtop of her, lying back down in bed. "Detail," She mutters. "I'm going to forgot to tell you the details of your murder pretty soon."

I laugh to myself and then climb on top of her. "Are you going to eat or be dramatic some more?"

"Get off," She speaks evenly.

I roll my eyes and pull myself off. "Fine." I go into the bathroom and turn on the bath, dropping in some bubble bath that I got for her after we got back from Florida, hoping that she would be inclined to take another bath with me. I re-renter my bedroom and pull the tray off of her. I bring it into the bathroom, resting it on the sink before I go and wrestle her into my arms.

"You know," Scarlett sighs once she finally gives up on fighting me and instead focuses on trying to hide her naked body. "Just because I had sex with you one time doesn't mean that A, I can't walk anymore, and B, you can just keep me naked all the time!"

I laugh. "Stop complaining."

I slowly rest her in the bath and feel myself grow hard when her eyes close and a moan slips between her lips. "Mmm," Scarlett smiles, lying down in the hot water. She lifts her tiny hand out of the water and then smiles shyly up at me. "Join me?" Scarlett bites her lip and I groan in the back of my throat.

"You still need to eat," I tell her gently.

"In the bath?" She looks at me funny and giggles.

I nod and then hand her the tray, the ends landing on either side of the tub so that she has an eating surface.

"Oh!" Scarlett laughs. "Well then."

I chuckle and then run my fingers through her hair. I lean down and skim my lips along that part of her neck that she loves when I go to. I hear her breath catch in her throat.

"Please eat so that I can give you your medicine," I whisper into her ear. "I would really like to get back into bed with you."

She quickly takes a giant bite of the sandwich I made her and then smiles with her mouth full. "Yes, sir!"

I spend most of Scarlett's time in the bath sitting on the ground next to her, stealing some of her food and talking over some details about imprinting, as well as other ones like how the rest of the pack and their families are doing. The only time I leave her is to take a phone call from Nessie, because I have a distinct feeling that it has something to do with her birthday.

She emerges from the bathroom just after I hung up with the phone. I am sitting on the edge of the bed when she idles in the doorway. She has a towel wrapped around her arms, her shoulders bare and her hair wet. I gulp.

Her towel drops to the ground, and my mouth goes along with it. I know that I should try to be respectful, but I can't help myself from devouring every inch of her perfect, _wet_ body. My head is spinning, and by the time I look up at her, nervously biting the center of her lip and holding her hands up to twiddle with her fingers, I know that I must look like some kind of animal.

I meant it though, even though she thought I was kidding. What she did to me last night- I am literally her fucking slave.

"Scarlett," I speak, though my voice is more like a moan.

She lifts her shoulders and shifts on her feet, covering her arms overtop of her breasts. I can tell how nervous she is, though that is just ridiculous for me. I seriously can't understand how a girl that looks like _that_ isn't wanting to show it off. She acts like she isn't the most gorgeous woman anyone has ever seen.

"Come here," I groan, holding my hands out to her.

She rushes toward me, her arms still covering her chest as she runs into my arms and I pull her up into my lap. Scarlett rests her thighs on either side of my lap, straddling me, and I stifle a groan.

Holy shit.

Naked Scarlett is on top of me.

"Ugh, baby," I run my palms in circles overtop every inch of her back, from her neck to her bottom and then back up again.

She blushes in my lap.

"You're not sore, are you?" I ask her, knowing that she must be.

"No," She blushes even more intensely.

"Scarlett," I brush the wet hair out of her eyes. "You can't lie to me because you're embarrassed. Not about this."

She sighs. "I'm a little sore," She admits. "But my whole body is a little sore; the pain meds make it better, I promise."

I sigh and close my eyes, resting my forehead against the top of her chest. "I don't want to put you in any more pain than you're already in, baby."

Scarlett giggles. "It's not painful, Paul. Trust me."

I smile when I remember her response yesterday, and then I start kissing her neck. Scarlett still has big bruises on her neck, from where that bastard tried to strangle her, so I am careful to kiss around them, and particularly perceptive of that one spot that makes her shiver.

I trail my kisses down, along her collarbone, my favorite place, and then stop right between her breasts. Scarlett's chest is rising and falling in a ridiculously attractive way from breathing so heavily. "More?" I ask her.

Scarlett's voice quiver as she answers. "Please."

I smile into her wet skin. "You never have to beg me, baby." I rub my thumbs against her hardened nipples and then squeeze her perfect, perfect, fucking perfect breasts in my hands.

"Mine," I growl as I watch them squish between my hands.

Scarlett whimpers and throws her head back. "Yours," She whispers.

I suddenly can't stop myself anymore. I flip her so that she is lying on her back and crawl on top of her. I groan as I stop myself from taking my shorts off. _Not yet,_ I force myself to wait.

I lower my face to her stomach and breathe against her soft, sweet-smelling skin. "Scarlett," I breathe against her. She moans. I take a deep breath and begin taking my time. I find each one of her bruises and kiss them gently.

"Better?" I ask, running my tongue along the length of one of them.

Scarlett gasps and arches her back in the air.

Fuck, yes.

"Mhmm," She is breathing so heavy you would think I was eating her out.

I kiss the next one and then smile into her skin, running my fingers up and down her sides, as I remember something that she said last night. "Fixed?"

Scarlett laughs, though it comes out as more of a gasp than anything. "Fixed," She breathes.

I pull my head up and look up at her. Scarlett's eyes are closed and her mouth is parted and her lips are red and fuck I need to kiss them.

With a moan I lift myself up and take her face between my hands. I kiss her deeply and hear her moan with satisfaction as she tangles her hands in my hair and whimpers into my mouth. I suck on her lips as she slides her tongue into my mouth and fuck I can't have control anymore.

I latch my hands underneath her knees and growl as I pull her lower underneath me.

Scarlett gasps. "Yes." She is breathing so heavy I can barely understand her.

I reach into the bottom drawer of my dresser but then stop myself. I run my finger along the length of her and hear her moan loudly beneath me.

Fuck.

She is dripping; there is really no need for it.

I pull Scarlett up into my lap and nearly cum right there at the way her head is dipped back and back is arched and chest is pressing out towards me.

"Fuck, baby," I mumble.

I rest her in my lap and wrap my arms around her back. I press the hair out of her face and kiss her deeply. When I pull away, Scarlett is breathing heavily against my mouth.

"Ugh," I shiver. I rub the tip of me against her, getting myself wet before I go inside of her. Fuck, I cannot explain how badly I want to be inside of her tight little pussy. I am fighting every urge in my entire body not to devour her.

"In," She moans. "Ohh, Paul."

I grasp her hips and then pull her close to me, pushing myself inside of her.

Scarlett gasps and tips her head back. Her mouth is hanging open and her breathing seems to have stopped completely.

"Okay?" I moan, forming my hands into fists to keep from attacking her. Fuck, she feels so amazing. I can literally feel every inch of her around me. It is incredible.

"Yes," She breathes. "Yes."

I take hold of her hips and find a comfortable way to hold onto her so that I am not squeezing her and giving her new bruises. I move her in and out easily, and she moans so loudly I bet the neighbors will hate me, if they don't already.

"Oh, Paul!" Scarlett digs her fingernails into the tops of my shoulders and whimpers that sexy, low whimper that makes me crazy.

I pull her in closer this time, so that the entire length of me is inside of her and her breasts are pressed against my chest. Scarlett's head is up again, and her eyes are wide as she stares at me, her mouth dropped.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask, breathless, reaching for her face.

Suddenly, she moans so loudly I nearly cum.

"Paul," She practically cries, "More. More."

Fuck.

I begin moving her back and forth, over and over and over again, deeper and faster yet still gentle and timid.

Scarlett is screaming.

I can't handle this much longer.

"Fuck."

I pull out of her and fumble with shaking hands into the top drawer of my dresser. With sexy, wet, naked Scarlett and her being so wet she was practically dripping, I had almost forgot about a condom.

"Fuck!" I moan in frustration, dropping one in my haste and then reaching for another one.

"Paul," Scarlett complains, her voice high and needy.

"I'm trying, baby," I moan.

Finally, I manage to slip the condom onto myself and then I slide myself back inside.

"Ah!" Scarlett gasps and rocks herself back and forth on top of me.

Holy fucking shit.

I cum.

I can't help but moan as I feel myself release inside of her, but thankfully with a condom on. Fuck. That had been close. How had I almost forgot.

I go to pull out of her but she grabs my arms and squeezes them tightly. "No," She complains, her eyes closed. "More."

"I need to take the condom off," I tell her gently. Fuck. Now that I am pleased all that I am thinking about is how I want to rock her fucking world. God this girl.

I pull out of her and then put a new condom on, much easier this time now that I am not shaking anymore. I easily slip myself inside of her- she is still _so_ wet- and Scarlett squeals.

"Yes," She moans.

"Oh, baby," I cup the back of her head in my hand and pull her closer. "Yes, Scarlett."

Now that I am pleased, there is nothing stopping me from making this amazing for her. I lie her down without pulling out of her and begin moving in and out.

"Mmm," Scarlett bites her lip as I watch her boobs bounce up and down with the rhythm.

"Faster," She breathes, her eyes popping open and meeting mine.

I groan in the back of my throat. "Are you sure?" I ask as I tangle my fingers in her soft hair.

"Yes," Scarlett practically cries.

"Ugh, baby," I lower my face to her chest and suck on her nipple. She gasps and presses herself closer to me.

"Paul," She moans, her voice raspy as she scratches her nails down my back.

Fuck.

That was so hot.

"I-I-I," She whimpers, her back arched. I pull away to see her eyes open at the ceiling and mouth hanging open in an o and lines forming between her eyes.

"Cum for me, baby," I tell her, immediately realizing what is happening. "Cum, Scarlett."

"Mmmmm,' She wraps her arms around my neck and holds on so tightly she would be bruising me if it wasn't for my supernatural strength.

Suddenly, she tenses around me, making my mouth drop in fucking bliss. God damn she is so tight. Her back arches and her toes curl and her mouth drops and I swear her eyes roll into the back of her head.

I don't stop until I am sure she has come out of it, and a loud moan follows, her eyes closed in contentment and pleasure. I smile and pull out of her.

"Oh, baby girl," I kiss her neck. "You're so fucking sexy."

"Mm," Scarlett mumbles with her mouth closed. "Thank you," She finally breathes.

I laugh, I mean, I actually laugh. "You're thanking me?" I ask her. "God, baby, you're so fucking clueless." I brush her hair on the top of her head and kiss her forehead.

"Hey," Scarlett breathes a complaint.

I laugh against her ear. "In an alluring way."

"Mhmm," She sighs. "So, how long?"

"Hm?" I brush the hair off of her neck.

"How long?" She repeats, impatience teetering on the edges of her voice.

"Until what?" I kiss her collarbone.

"How long," Scarlett moans, "Until we can go again?"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! Please follow and favorite and review too if you liked it!:) Thanks for reading!


	29. First Birthday Part 1

HI GUYS! As always, thank you so much for reading and I hope you love it!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"What are you thinking about?" Paul asks, his voice just a whisper in the darkness. My lips are red and plump and chapped but I can't stop. Kissing Paul has become an addition of mine.

"Nothing," I lie, antsy to get back to our previous activity. We are lying on the floor of his living room, the fire blazing and our bodies tangled and the TV on in the background, though it is on mute.

Paul cups the side of my head in his hand and sucks down my neck. My mouth parts are I give myself over to him.

"I know when you're thinking about something," He breathes into my skin and then picks up his head again. "What is it?"

"I'm scared," I whisper in a moment of pure, unbridled truth.

"What are you scared of?" Paul asks gently, stroking his hot fingers along the side of my face. I close my eyes and press myself into him, loving the feeling.

"That," I smile faintly.

Paul's hand is slow as he delicately runs it through my hair and then along my face and then overtop of my collarbone over and over again.

"You never have to be afraid of me," He whispers into my ear.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "I'm not scared of you, Paul," I respond, my voice dripping with honesty. "I'm scared of not being with you."

"That will never happen," He kisses my collarbone and my lips part. "I promise."

"You can't promise that," I argue. "You just, can't."

Paul pulls himself up and then idles with his face right overtop of mine. His face is unreadable as he runs his fingers along my lower lip. He does this for a while before he speaks, never looking away from his movement. "What do you think is going to happen to me?"

I wait for him to look up at me to level my gaze with him. "We've spent so much time fighting the craziest things." I shake my head. "My crazy, abusive childhood and then you being a werewolf and imprinting on me, and," I take a deep breath. "I just worry that something simple is going to happen."

"What do you mean?" His voice is soft and gentle.

"You could get hit by a car," I tell him.

"Cars can't kill me, Scarlett."

"Fine," I sigh. "A bus. A train."

"That will never happen," He kisses me gently.

"One of us could get cancer," I offer.

"Extremely unlikely," He sucks on the edge of my collarbone and my breathing grows heavy.

"I don't know Lahote," I finally sigh. "Just don't die, okay?"

He laughs gently against my skin. "I'm really not planning on it, Scarlett."

"Thank God," I smile. "I'll shut up now."

"Please don't." Paul kisses up my neck and then sucks on that part of my neck right below my ear that I swear to God sends me _this_ close to an orgasm every single time. "Really. Please keep talking; I love listening to you."

I smile. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Everything. Tell me more secrets."

I giggle. "I don't give those away for nothing, Paul."

His fingers skim over top of my nipples and I moan deep in the back of my throat.

"Fine," I speak, my voice raspy. He laughs gently against my neck. "I'll tell you a secret if you tell me one."

"Deal." Paul busies himself with running his finger along a particular piece of hair over and over again as I think of what to say.

"Alright," I finally say. "I've got one. But just to warn you it's dark and twisty."

" _You're_ dark and twisty," Paul laughs.

"Good dark and twisty?"

"Sexy dark and twisty," He kisses me gently.

I smile contently and let that lie just sink in; I am especially pleased with letting myself believe that. "You know how I told you my favorite color was orange?"

"Scarlett," Paul isn't able to conceal his laughter. "The kind of secret that I want to hear isn't one about you lying about your favorite color."

"Shut up," I laugh and shove at his chest, though he doesn't go anywhere, not that I want him to. "I told you orange because it was kind of like my last resort. All the other colors, black and blue and purple and red and yellow and green, I was always hiding them beneath my clothes, and checking them to see how long I had before they faded or how bad they were. I always hated those colors, especially blue."

Paul stops moving on top of me and then finally after a moment he brings his face down to mine. He doesn't kiss me, though his mouth is sure close enough to. Instead, he runs his palm over top of my hair on the top of my head over and over and over again, and then he sighs. "You know what?" He begins.

"What?" I whisper.

"I think that blue should be your favorite color."

"You do?" I can't help a smile from forming on my lips. "And why is that?"

"Well it's the color of your eyes," He kisses each of my eyelids softly. "And it's the color of the ocean, and you love the ocean."

"This is true," I nod my head.

"And bruises can't possibly matter more than your eyes. I love your eyes. They're one of my favorite parts of you."  
"I like your reasoning," I laugh and wrap my arms around his neck. "You're sweet, Lahote. Am I too dark and twisty for you, though?" I tease.

"I like it," He laughs. "You're mysterious."

"That's a really nice way of saying unstable and unable to deal with my emotions."

He laughs and kisses me deeply. When he pulls away my head is spinning. "You deal with your emotions with me, sweetie… kind of."

"Kind of?" I exclaim. "I practically killed myself trying to open up to you!"

"That's the scary part," He chuckles and runs his hand up my thigh.

"Oh yeah," I roll my eyes. "And you're just mister perfect over there. You know what I think?"

"No, I never do, but I would really like to hear it."

I roll my eyes. "I think that _you_ were just as scared to get close to anyone as I was, but instead of becoming a pessimist without a soul you hid behind your physical... talents."

He chuckles into my ear. "You're right."

My face pulls up in a surprised yet impressed expression. "I am?"

"Of course you are," He sighs. "You went dark and twisty and I went carefree and superficial."

"See, this is why we're so good together! We're like the two extremes! Put us together and you've got a semi-normal person!"

He laughs and holds his hand out to the side. I giggle and high five him.

"So, are you going to tell me your secret now, or did you think I forgot about that?"

"I already told you one," He sighs as he runs his pointer finger along the seam of my dress, trailing his finger down the length of my body and then back up again. I force myself not to shiver.

"N-no," I take a steadying breath. "I guessed one. You just agreed with me."

He moans. "I don't know any secrets, Scar. I tell you everything."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, right. You don't tell me _anything_."

"So not true."

"Whatever," I roll my eyes. "You still owe one secret."

"Couldn't I work off my debt in a more… mutually beneficial way?" His hands find the skin of my thighs and then begin pushing my dress up.

I slap his hand and my mouth drops. "You do realize you just basically gave me an example of what we _just_ talked out," I say.

He smiles guiltily. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," I giggle.

"I'm not at all," Paul smiles and kisses my shoulder. "I just don't know what to tell you."

"What is the worst thing you've ever done?" I ask him.

Paul stiffens above me. "Scarlett," He complains.

"I'm not going to judge you!" I wrap my arms around his neck and brush my fingers along the short hair at his collar. "I'll even tell you the worst thing I ever did so you won't feel so bad."

"Fine," Paul cups my face in his hands and then kisses my cheek once before letting me go.

"The worst thing I ever did," I sigh, thinking about it. "One time I put nair in a girl's shampoo bottle on my soccer team."

Paul laughs. "That's really not that bad, Scarlett."

I contemplate for a moment longer. "Well, once I… I… I,"

"Stop," Paul sighs and runs his fingers through my hair. "It's hard for you to find a specific moment because you're innately _good_. It's fascinating."

"Fascinating? Hm. Not sure if I like that."

"I meant it as a complement," He sighs. "Unlike me."

I roll my eyes. "You act like you're some kind of monster, Paul."

"You didn't know me before you," He states simply.

"One time I tried to kill myself."

Paul completely freezes above me. He picks his head up and then meets my eyes with his. He looks absolutely terrified. For a second I am taken aback; we had been talking about the worst things that we ever did, right? I was just throwing that out there as a possibility.

"Scarlett," He breathes. "Why would you- Don't- You- You never do that again, do you understand me?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Don't worry I'm not jumping at the chance to kill myself any time soon," I giggle, though his expression doesn't budge an inch. "My life is different now."

"What did you do?" He pushes.

I moan. "Paul. Come on."

"I want to know. Now." His voice doesn't leave any room for argument.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Well I don't want to tell you."

"I'm serious."

"So am I," I challenge.

"Scarlett," Paul grips my shoulders tightly in his hands and I gasp. "This isn't funny. _That_ isn't funny. Why would you ever try to kill yourself?"

"Paul let go of my arms," I mumble, my voice growing weak and willowy with the tight force.

His hands immediately loosen and then he brushes the back of his finger along my cheek. "I'm sorry," He speaks, his voice sweet again. "That- that just- that's the worst thing I have ever heard in my entire life."

I gulp. "Too dark and twisty?" I repeat, my voice quieter now.

He doesn't respond. Instead, he kisses me, soft and delicate, like he doesn't want to press too hard or hurt me in any way, not that his kiss could ever really hurt me.

"Scarlett," He breathes once he pulls away. "What did you do?"

I sigh and shake my head. "It's really not that big of a deal. It was a long time ago."

"How old were you?" He asks.

"I was twelve," I sigh.

Paul gulps. "Twelve?"

I nod my head. "I didn't really know what I was doing, anyways. I knocked over a vase because I was clumsy, and I knew that when he got home he would be really mad. I was scared." I shrug. "I found a bottle of the pills he was always popping and took like ten of them. I wasn't really thinking that I wanted to die, I just didn't want to get hurt anymore. But he came home early and since he's a cop and all, he knew exactly how to handle that and shoved his finger down my throat to make me puke it all out. With what he did to me after, I can assure you that I never tried _that_ again."

Paul closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Scarlett," He begins, but I stop him.

"Paul," I speak bluntly. His eyes open at the inflection of my voice. "Don't do that," I speak sternly. "That was my life. I don't need you feeling bad about it, or feeling sorry for me or viewing me as this little flower that needs to be saved. I'm fine. And it's over now. And when you act like that it makes me feel like it's not."

He nods his head slowly and then drops his forehead to my chest. He takes a deep breath before he responds. "I roofied a girl once."

My mouth drops. "Paul," I breathe, my arms immediately slipping off of him.

"I didn't do anything," He picks his head up and shakes his head adamantly at me. "I swear, Scarlett, I didn't. I was in high school and on the football team. The other guys, they did it all the time, and they offered it to me one night. I wasn't going to use it, but then I just… did. And I brought her into a bedroom but when I got in there I… couldn't. I couldn't do it. I pretended like I was taking her back to my place because my mom wasn't home, but really I took her home. I told her mom she had too much to drink. She- she, thanked me."

I gulp, not quite sure how to respond to that. Of course, I am happy that Paul didn't rape anyone. To be honest, I don't know what I would do if he had. But, the truth is that he _did_ drug her, even if he didn't go through with it.

"You said you wouldn't judge it." He sounds like a little boy.

"Yeah," I widen my eyes and swallow harshly. "But that's, that's," I shake my head. 'That's intense, Paul."

He nods his head sadly. "It's the biggest regret of my entire life," He shakes his head. "If I could go back and change it I would; I would give anything to be able to. And I promise you nothing like that ever happened again."

I sigh and nod my head. The truth is, I could hold this over him, I could get scared and run and worry and question his character, but I don't want to. I know who Paul is, and I love him for who he was before, too, even if I don't agree with it. We all make mistakes, like me with those pills, and him with different pills, I guess.

I re-wrap my arms around her neck and kiss him gently. "It's okay, Paul. I know who you are."

"Now," He sighs and rubs my hand that is entwined at his neck.

"You've always been good at your core, Paul, even when you had questionable character. You didn't touch that girl."

"I know," He responds quietly. "But I-,"

"But nothing," I shake my head adamantly, already having made up my mind. "You want to talk about regrets? How about not telling anyone that your stepfather was beating the shit out of you for fifteen years? You'll ruin yourself if you let yourself wallow in what you could have done. Moral of the story is that you didn't and that's it. Period. It's over. Unless of course there are time travelers that I have yet to learn about."

He kisses my cheek. "You're so _good_ Scarlett. I hope you know how much I mean that, and how much I will never deserve you."

"I hate when you say that," I moan.

"And I hate when you put yourself down, call yourself stupid, make jokes about dying, steal the covers in the middle of the night and how you still haven't gone on a _real_ date with me, but I have just learned to live with it."

I burst out laughing, happy that Paul was finally able to break the newly formed sadness between us. "Wow. Anything else you've been holding in for all this time?"

He smiles widely and kisses the tip of my nose. "And you steal all my shirts."

I gasp. "You said it was hot that I sleep in your tee-shirts!"

"It is!" Paul laughs. "But you somehow seem to pick the _exact_ shirt I plan on wearing the next day _every single time_."

I shake my head. "Fine. I'll stop wearing them."

"Perfect!"

I gasp. "I didn't mean I'd go naked!" I giggle nervously, remembering the one time I had and how Paul threw the covers off of me and had forced me to remain naked and in bed for breakfast and then well into the afternoon.

"Damn it."

I giggle. "Nice try, though. No, I'll start wearing actual pants to bed. How about that?"

"Please don't," He moans into my neck. "I take it back, okay? You can wear whatever shirts you want whenever you want. I swear it."

I giggle. "I guess I'll have to think about it," I sigh longingly.

"Fine. Can you think about it while I make love to you, though?"

I blush. "As much as I hate to say it," I begin, the distaste strong and obvious in my tone.

"You're sore," He finishes for me.

I sigh. "I'm sore.

Paul moans and then flips off of me. "That's okay. I was waiting for it to happen; dreading it, actually."

I laugh. "I'll probably be ready to go by tomorrow, you know," I say, slight panic evident in my voice. It has been three days since we first had sex, and in that time we have practically been living in the bedroom. I can't get enough of him and he can't get enough of me, and it doesn't help that all he has to do is so much as touch me and I am practically begging him to take my clothes off. In every instance, though, Paul has been on top, or I have been in his lap. I am eager to try new ways, every single way, and experience how he can make my body feel, but I am not sure how to ask. I blush at the thought.

"Too long," Paul smiles and kisses me softly. "And besides, tomorrow is your birthday."

I cock my head to the side. "I want birthday sex, Lahote."

Paul bursts out laughing. "How could I deny the birthday girl?"

"You can't," I giggle teasingly. I go to poke him on the nose but he grabs my hand and pretends to bite it. I squeal and try to pull my hand away, though Paul just laughs that breathtakingly beautiful smile that makes my world stop turning and then kisses my palm tenderly.

The only distraction to what otherwise would have been a perfect moment, are the thick, jagged and deep scars suddenly staring me in the face. I bite the inside of my cheek and pull my hand away, swallowing down a lump in my throat.

"What's wrong?" Paul asks, ever perceptive to my feelings.

"Nothing," I lie quickly. "Kiss me."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," He smiles a teasing smile at me and then reaches his hand out for mine. I slide my left hand farther under the blanket and out of his reach, and then place my right hand into his. Our fingers press out together and then our hands entwine, but this is almost absentmindedly; Paul's face is squinted in the middle and his eyes are examining me. Though the more I am with Paul the greater my life becomes, I find it harder and harder to keep _anything_ from him when he knows me so well.

I sigh. "Does my hand bother you?" I ask finally.

Paul looks down toward my hand with a confused expression. He picks my uninjured hand up in the air and examines it closely. "Is it supposed to?" He finally asks, obviously not understanding my question at all.

I roll my eyes. "Nevermind."

"Were you flicking me off or something and I didn't catch it?" Paul teases, a laugh slipping through his lips.

"No," I giggle. "I wasn't talking about _this_ hand."

I sigh as he finally understands; though the look of understanding isn't that bad, it is the sympathy that makes me want to throw up.

"Don't," I moan. "You know I hate when you do that!"

"Do what?" Paul asks quietly, running his fingers up my arm.

"Feel bad for me. It's annoying."

"Let me see your hand," He tells me with a sigh.

"No."

"Scarlett," Paul shakes his head. "You could either hold it out for me or I'm going to grab it. Your choice."

"Actually I think I'm going to knee you between the legs if you're going to threaten me like that."

"Do it."

"Fine," I moan and then lift my hand out from underneath its solace. I force myself not to react to the way that the side of my hand is so deformed, that if someone was just to see it from that angle, they would probably have no idea what it was. The back and my palm are filled with cuts, some tiny and jagged and others long and thick and unmistakable. I bite the inside of my cheek whilst taking it in.

In the short time in which I have been back, I honestly have pushed the thoughts of my hand away as soon as they came about. Besides, I can still _use_ it- no, I have full function of it, so what the hell is there to complain about? Though, the vein part of me yearns for it to be perfect like it was before.

"What's wrong with it?" Paul asks softly, kissing it gently, staring at my palm and then making his way around all the way to the front.

"Paul," I moan.

"I'm serious." I stare at the way that his eyes hold a little confusion though much more certainty; he is telling the truth.

"But-," I twist my hand in front of my face in wonder. "I mean, look at it."

Paul gently pulls it into his grasp and then tenderly holds it in his hand. "I am looking," He kisses my palm. "I love your hands."

"Paul," I begin.

"Your hands touch me, and I love when you touch me." He looks up at me, his eyes burning that flaming red heat that makes me blush and want to rip my clothes off at the same time. "Your hands reached for me when you came to sleep here before we left for Florida, do you remember that?"

I giggle, unable to stop my cheeks from reddening at the memory. "That was the night I threw shampoo at your head, wasn't it?"

He laughs. "I remember thinking, 'She's in my bed. Scarlett is in my _fucking bed_!'."

I blush and bite the corner of my cheek, trying to remember how I had felt as well.

"And then you reached for me," His voice quiets. "And you ran your hands down my arms when you pulled away, really slowly, like this." Paul takes both of my hands and then slowly slides them down the sides of his arms.

I gulp. "You have a really good memory."

"And your hands were what you gripped my hair with on top of the desk in my bedroom at my mom's house. Do you remember that?"

I gasp- I can't help it. "Paul," I giggle nervously. "Yes. That was crazy. I still can't believe we actually did that."

"So what is it about these hands, again?" Paul's lip pulls up at the corner.

I wrap my arms around his neck and internally smile, because Paul can do that to a girl. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Much better." Paul rubs my arm as he leans down to kiss me tenderly. I sigh into his mouth and give into him, powerless to escape from the contentness that floods through my entire body in a rush when he holds me like this.

I hear a howl in the distance and then Paul pulls away. I frown and open my eyes at him in an accusatory manor. I notice him press his lips tightly together and gently rub the skin between my eyebrows. I drop my frown and he actually does smile now.

"I have to run patrol tonight, sweetie."

I frown again.

"What?"

Paul sighs. "I haven't in a long time, Scar. The other guys picked up my slack, but they're tired. It's a pretty mathematical rotation; if one person isn't helping than everyone else has to cover twice as much territory, and do it more often too."

I nod my head. "I understand," I say, because it is what I have to say, though my arms snake their way up to his neck and lock themselves there.

"Will you be okay?" Paul kisses my shoulder gently.

"I'll be fine," I lie again. Quite honestly, the fear that comes at the realization that I will be in this house alone tonight absolutely shocks me to my core. I have never been afraid of being alone; in fact, I have always found a solace in it. But remembering how he had been lurking in the shadows, and how there was no one around to save me as he… no.

No. I am fine.

I am fine.

"Are you sure?" Paul asks, and I notice the way his voice is questioning at the end. I know that he can sense my unease, and just a simple "no" would be enough for him to force his friends to do overtime like they have been doing all month just to accommodate my idiotic, little-girl fear that I just need to get the heck over.

I plaster the most genuine smile on my face that I can muster and make sure not to lie, for I know he can sense when I do that. "I don't want them working harder than they have to for one more night. Seriously."  
Paul smiles and kisses me softly. "Can I carry you up to bed?"

I bite the corner of my lip. "Could I sleep on the couch and then you'll bring me to bed when you get back?"

"It's going to be a while, Scar." He scoops me up into his arms and then stands. I gulp down the irrational fear and force myself to relax. Something about being all the way up in his bedroom, unable to hear or see if anyone came through the door is frightening me- but that is just ridiculous.

Paul places me into his bed and then smiles down at me as he reaches for his tee-shirt, the same one I wore last night, from where he had previously discarded it on top of the sheets. I stare up at him and just have to bite my lip. He looks so sexy from this angle. I want to know what it would feel like for us to have sex like this: Him standing and me lying down. He could pull me to the edge of the bed and… whew, Scarlett. Relax your hormones.

"Are you thinking bad things, Scarlett baby?" Paul teases as he unclasps my bra and lets it drop the floor.

"What?" I nearly choke on the word.

Paul bunches the tee-shirt in his hands but ignores me. It isn't until I move my face in the slightest that I realize just how hot my skin is there, and conclude that I must be beat red- good Lord.

"Arms up," He instructs me. I notice his jaw tense and then his eyes drop to my chest as I do as I am told. He makes a certain sound that I have grown to conclude as restraint, out of the back of his throat as he slips it overtop of my head. As Paul slides his hands off of my body, he pulls my panties off too, and discards them on the floor as well.

He pulls the covers up to my chin and then kisses me softly. "I'll be back."

"D-did you lock the front door?" I look up at him nervously, my eyes growing wide.

"Yes, I did," He runs his finger along the side of my face.

"O-okay," I nod my head. He stands up and I suddenly can't let him leave. "Could you close the door?"

He stares at me a second, nods and then does as I ask.

"Actually, open it."

He opens it.

"Could you crack it?"

"Scarlett," Paul speaks gently, though he does in fact, crack it. "Are you too scared? I won't go. I- I'm not going to go."

"What?" I gasp. "No. No! You have to go! Your friends are not catering to me any more than they already have!"

"It's not a big deal," He sighs, "Really."

"Yes it is," I argue. "I just was confused on how I wanted the door, is all. Now it's perfect." Yes. Perfect. Now I can hear if someone is coming but am safely concealed in Paul's bed sheets.

"Are you sure?" He doesn't seem convinced.

"Yes!" I turn over in bed so that I am on my side and bury my cheek into the pillow. "See!" I slam my eyes shut and only open them when I hear a slight chuckle.

Paul examines me for a while before he finally nods his head and seems to make up his mind. "Alright. But I'm staying close, do you understand?"

"Yes," I smile.

"You have your phone, right?" He frowns.

"Yes," I nod to its position, still plugged in on the nightstand; neither Paul nor I have really had much time for electronics as of lately.

"Call Jake if you need me. He's off tonight so he'll phase to tell us and then I'll come back. Okay?"

"Okay," I answer, knowing that full well there would have to be a break in before I ever woke Jacob up because I was scared.

"I'll be right outside," He tells me, suddenly looking uneasy again.

"Paul," I force a laugh, though it is slightly more believable because my face is covered. "Go."

"Okay." Paul nods his head adminatly and then heads for the window. "I'll be back soon. Sleep well. Love you."

"I love you t-,"

By the time I finish my sentence, he is already gone.

I quickly rush over to the window and close it tightly, and then I tiptoe downstairs to turn all the lights on and then re-check that the door is locked. Once I have finally checked and then rechecked the place, I go back to Paul's bedroom and crack the door just how I want it. I turn the lamp next to his bed on and crawl underneath the covers, knowing that I probably won't get the best of sleep with the light on, but knowing that it is better than none, which is exactly the amount I would get if it wasn't.

The wind makes a squeaking noise against the window and I gasp and jump up.

With a moan I roll my eyes and lie back down in bed. I huff and throw the covers back on top of me. _This is ridiculous,_ I think. It's not like Paul and I have been together 24-7 since I got back from the hospital; he has left me for work and some errands and I have left him for Nessie and some errands of my own, but something about the night is teetering me on the edge of panic.

I force my eyes closed and then take a deep breath.

I am going to sleep if it is the last thing that I ever do.

* * *

My screams lull me from unconsciousness with a bang.

I sit up in bed and gasp in thick, heavy breaths of air as my mind immediately slips into the mindset of not having a panic attack.

I close my eyes and place my head in my lap and rock back and forth frantically.

No, not now. _Please_ not now.

"Scarlett?"

I jump up and go to scream but my breath has been captured from my throat and all that comes out is a wheezing gasp. My panic subsides, if only slightly, when I realize the person that has entered my room is none other than Embry.

"E-E-Embry?" I manage to squeak out.

"Are- Are you okay?" His eyes are wide as he looks at me gasping for breath and I force my heavy head to nod up and down and blink my eyes rapidly when blackness begins spotting at the corners of my vision.

"I-I-I'm, f-f-f-f-i-ne," I somehow speak between gasps.

Embry's eyes soften and then he cautiously comes towards me. I drop my head into my hands and focus on my breathing- this is so embarrassing I could cry, but even more embarrassing would actually be passing out.

My head is swarming with panic that is overtaking my veins and only making me panic more. _Breathe,_ I am demanding myself. _Fucking breathe!_ But for some reason I just can't. It has been so long since I have had one of these, so, so, so, so long, though I can't think about it; thinking about my panic attacks coming back makes me want to die, and right now, wanting to die makes me want to panic more and then I surely will pass out from lack of oxygen to the brain.

I wheeze in a breath and then jump when I feel Embry's hand on my back.

"It's okay," He tells me cautiously. Embry's hand begins moving in a small circle and I claw at my throat, though I know that I shouldn't. I just want to breathe, for God's sake. I am growing frustrated, but I know that I can't; I can't because growing frustrated will only make this worse.

I let out a sort of strangled moan from the back of my throat and then suck in a quick breath. I close my eyes and press my hands to the sides of my face. Slowly, oh so slowly, I begin to feel myself coming out of it.

I take as deep a breath as my body will allow me to and hold my hand to my heart, trying to slow it.

Embry is still rubbing my back, and it honestly is comforting to me. Now that I am not trying to contain my full-blown panic attack, I am able to actually _feel_ him touching me. It isn't the same as when Paul touches me, that is for sure; when Paul touches me it is an overall feeling of wholesomeness and love that illuminates inside of me almost immediately, making me want to crawl into his lap and have him hold me. With Embry comforting me I feel safe, content and calm, but he smells different. It's hard to explain, because it feels good, but he is not the person that I want right now.

I finally sit up and then feel his hand pull away from my back. I twist and then offer him a timid smile, suddenly embarrassed. "Sorry."

Embry shrugs. "Don't be."

I gulp. "Do you know- have you- like, have you seen me have those before?" I manage to get out, though I cringe at that last part. Even thinking about the other guys seeing me have a panic attack through Paul's eyes makes me want to start crying. Then I suddenly think about Paul letting our recent sexual exploits slip and want to actually die.

"Yep," Embry states, his voice causal.

I raise my eyebrows at him. Paul would definitely have said something like, "Oh, Scarlett, don't worry baby, I haven't seen anything. No one has seen anything. You're perfect. Say you're perfect. Say it now. Yada, yada."

I am suddenly laughing hysterically.

"What's wrong with you?" He asks suddenly, peering at me as if I have lost my mind.

"It is so refreshing not to have someone tell me the truth about how psyco I am for once."

Embry's lips pull up at the corners and I can't help but smile myself.

"So you're okay?" He asks, lifting his eyebrows at me in question.

I nod my head.

"Good," Embry sighs and then ruffles my hair. "Enough of that, kid. You hear me?"

"Yes," I slap his hand away and narrow my eyes at him.

Embry laughs, and I suddenly realize how odd it looks to see someone who looks kind of like Paul sitting on Paul's bed next to me; it is like my mind is mind-fucking me or something.

"Wait," I frown, finally coming to rational thought. "What are you doing in here? Where is Paul?"

"I was running patrol and heard you scream," He answers easily. "Paul and I's shift overlaps in this area. He's east now, though."

I look towards the door to where it is still partially cracked and then frown. "But how did you, like, get in?"

He nods his head towards the window and I blink a few times at the window that is now wide open. I rub my eyes and pinch myself. Nope, definitely not dreaming.

I moan and sit up in bed to get a better look. "I know Paul jumps out there all the time, but how the heck did you manage to climb up? What, did you scale my house?"

I smile, awaiting a laugh or a snide comment or sarcastic remark, but nothing comes. I look back at Embry with confusion, to see his eyes focused on something else. I am kneeling on top of the bed, peering out towards the window, and Embry is sitting on the side of the bed behind me. I suddenly remember I am not wearing pants, or underwear, and though Paul's shirt is enough to cover my butt, it doesn't manage to cover anything else.

"Oh!" I pull the shirt down as far as it will go and sit back down with flaming red cheeks and sudden embarrassment. "S-s-sorry," I mumble.

Embry clears his throat and then forces his eyes away. "I should probably go."

"What?" Panic suddenly surges through my veins at warped speed. "No! Why?"

Embry smiles his signature crooked smile, seeming to find something about that question very humorous. "Because if Paul comes back and finds me in bed with his half-naked girlfriend I am as good as dead."

I roll my eyes. "I can handle Paul, and I'm not naked."

"You're half naked," He grins at me.

"You shouldn't be so happy about that," I scold him.

"So you and Paul finally pulled the trigger," He sighs and rests his hands behind his head, seeming to get a little bit too comfortable on top of Paul's bed.

"We are not talking about this," I dismiss immediately.

"Oh come on," Embry laughs. "I thought I was your best friend!" He hits my shoulder a little bit too hard, forcing me to rub it.

"Not my best girlfriend!" I laugh. "And besides, I'm sure this isn't your favorite subject to discuss." I mumble that last part, looking towards the sheets and immediately growing uncomfortable from bringing up Embry's feelings for me.

"Nah I'm trying to get over that, actually."

"Oh, really," I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Yep," Embry smiles widely at me. "I've decided that it isn't the best idea to fall in love with your friend's girl and to never do that again."

I giggle. "Don't be too hard on yourself. Should I ask how you plan on doing that?"

"Certainly. By having a lot of casual sex."

My mouth drops and my eyes suddenly grow wide. "W-what?" I manage to get out.

"Alright don't faint on me again." Embry sits up, laughs at me and then begins fanning me off. "Come on, lay down," He shakes his head, still laughing, as he lowers me back down into bed and scoots a little farther away from me.

I clear my throat and gulp. "I-I'm fine," I squeak.

"This is healthy, Scarlett," Embry reassures me.

"Well, maybe," I can hear the uncertainty in my own voice.

"Maybe?" Embry questions.

"I just- I don't think it's necessary to sleep with all these girls just to get over someone. Everyone kind of saw how that worked out for Paul."

"Yeah but Paul wasn't trying to get over anyone, Scarlett."

"That's kind of even worse," I roll my eyes.

"I'm really not following here."

"Nevermind," I huff and cross my arms angrily over top of my chest. Ugh, Scarlett, what the fuck are you doing? I know that these feelings are entirely ridiculous, but I can't help but wonder what girls would be hotter than me, better than me, more sexy than me, that would successfully work in taking Embry's mind off of me.

"Scarlett," Embry begins, all the teasing having left his tone. "Are you… jealous?"

"No!" I scream.

Embry jumps and I cower down into myself. "I'm not," I continue, quieter this time.

"Okay," Embry's eyes are wide as he holds the word out.

"I'm not jealous," I insist.

"Obviously," He shrugs.

"Seriously," I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm- I'm happy for you. I think you should totally go out and have sex with a ton of bleached whores with fake boobs dipped in desperation as perfume. Great idea. Try not to get chlamydia while you're at it!"

"Okay." Embry pats my leg and then stands up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk to you about this kind of stuff. I just thought that, maybe," He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a long sigh. His demeanor changes from teasing to something deeper, just like his voice. "Maybe it would make it easier, if we could… talk about that together."

I gulp, and suddenly I feel like I want to cry. I sit up in bed, pulling the covers tight overtop of my chest and hoping that I look at guilty as I feel. "I'm really sorry, Embry. I think that might help too, and I hope that we can do that. I really do. You're my best friend and I want you to be happy. Ugh, God, I'm so selfish."

"You're not selfish," Embry sighs.

"I am incredibly selfish," I argue. "You _should_ be getting over me. You should be going out and having fun and hopefully meeting a girl ten times prettier than me."

"Yeah that's pretty impossible," Embry rolls his eyes. "You're perfect."

I gulp. "I'm _Paul's,"_ I whisper.

"I know, Scarlett, okay? I know." Embry's voice is so harsh I wince.

"I'm sorry," I whimper.

Embry lets out a long, loud sigh and then roughly rubs his forehead in his hands. He sits back down on the edge of the bed and kisses me roughly on the top of the head. "Relax, okay," Embry rubs my shoulder in his hands. "I'm not mad at you."

"I'm terrible. You don't have to hangout with me anymore if you don't want to."

"Would you stop," Embry moans. "You're my best friend, you idiot."

I giggle, finally feeling the awkwardness slip away from us and our usual teasing banter taking its place.

"Oh!" Embry's lip pulls up into a grin that I know I am not about to like. "Happy birthday by the way."

I moan. "He told you?"

Embry's eyes widen. "You could say that."

I moan again, louder this time. "How bad?"

"Scale of one to twenty?" I nod. "Mmmmm, about an eighteen."

I smash a pillow overtop of my face and scream into it. "I begged him not to," I cry into the fabric, my voice muffled.

"I think the fact that you used to get whipped every year for your birthday has something to do with it, but that's just my best guess."

I giggle, pulling the pillow away from my face and lying flat on the mattress as I cross my arms over my chest. "I freaking love you for being so brutal about all the shit I went through, you know that right?"

Embry smiles, but there is a sadness behind my eyes that is impossible to ignore. I gulp and drop my gaze.

"I'm going to get going. Believe it or not that are other mortals to protect."

"You're leaving?" The panic is practically coming off of me like water vapor.

"You'll be fine, Scarlett," Embry gives me a reassuring smile but it does little to aid my fears. He takes a step towards the window but then looks back at me, seeming to hesitate when he notices my face. "Scarlett?" He questions.

"Can't you just stay until I fall asleep?" I ask before I realize how damn embarrassing it is to be newly eighteen years old and needing a babysitter.

I am about to take it back when Embry goes over to the other side of the bed and then climbs on top, sitting up as he rests his back against the headboard. "Fine, princess."

"Don't call me that," I narrow my eyes at him.

"Whatever you want, princess."

"Embry!" I snap.

"Shut up and go to sleep before your crazy boyfriend gets back and kills me!"

"Fine." I huff and lie down in bed, reaching for the lamp and shutting the light off at the same time. I close my eyes but the darkness is still breathtaking. With my eyes closed, it is hard to believe that Embry is even here at all.

"Embry?" I question, my voice pathetic.

"I'm here, Scarlett."

I follow his voice and scoot in just a little bit closer to him. I rest my head back down on the pillow and then cautiously press my wrist into his thigh, just to be sure that he is there.

I feel heat radiating above my hand for a moment, and then the faintest brush of his fingertip against my hair.

He clears his throat and pulls away.

Neither of us say another word as I fall into a deep sleep.

The next time I awake Embry is gone, and Paul is gone too. The light prickles at my eyes behind my eyelids and welcomes the morning with the sun peaking through the window across the room. I am pleased, entirely and completely content, as I roll onto my stomach, hug the pillow in my hands and then lay my head back down on the delicate plushness. I take a deep breath and then suddenly frown, whereas I had thought Paul must have been in the bathroom or something similar, the sheets have no remnants of his scent.

I pick my head up and blink my eyes rapidly, adjusting to the brightness of the morning. "Paul?" I speak out, my voice raspy from sleep. "Paul?" I ask again, louder this time after no answer comes.

I hear the door creak open and then feel the bed shift under the weight of him. I smile to myself and lay my head back down on the pillow.

"Hi, birthday girl." His voice is sexy and calming and makes my entire body pulsate with happiness. My Paul. He slowly slides my hair off of my shoulder onto my back and then kisses the skin there tenderly.

"Good morning," I sigh.

"Good morning," He repeats with a laugh, though I can't tell what is funny. "How do you feel? 18?"

I chuckle. "No."

"Oh no." Paul's voice feigns sadness as he flips me over in bad and then climbs underneath the covers. Before I have a chance to even wonder what is going on, I feel his mouth between my legs.

My eyes pop open and my mouth drops.

Happy birthday? Yes. Yes it really is.

Happy _freaking_ birthday to me.

* * *

Sorry this is kind of a filler chapter before the birthday festivities! I am also really curious what everyone thinks of the confessions Paul and Scarlett made to each other, and even more so what you all are thinking about Embry! I kind of really love Embry and Scarlett's friendship... Anyone else?

Please follow and favorite if you haven't already, and review too because it makes me happy! Thanks for reading!


	30. First Birthday Part 2

Hi guys! I LOVE this chapter, so please, please let me know what you think!

I decided that this chapter works best switching between point of views, so it begins with Scarlett and then ends with Paul. Enjoy;)

Note:After the next few chapters, I am thinking about beginning to skip months and years to cover the most important moments in Paul and Scar's lives. I plan on dating the last regular chapter and then for each chapter after that, I will jump ahead and date those to reflect the month and year. How would you all feel about that? Looking for options!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Paul!" I call out of the shower door and just faintly hear him respond. "When can I get out of here?" I ask for the fifth time.

Paul began my morning shower with me, but then after washing my hair he said that he had to go finish setting some things up and to not even think about leaving until he came and got me. Basically, my fingers are pruney and the water is cold.

The door suddenly opens and Paul meets my narrow eyes and crossed arms with a childlike gleam filling his annoyingly perfect face. "Done. Oh no, am I in trouble?"

I roll my eyes. "No. Hand me a towel."

I turn the water off and then step out onto the bath matt. Instead of handing it to me, Paul holds it open so that I can walk in and then towels me off himself.

I bite the corner of my lip when he rubs the towel against my bare chest. Paul raises his eyebrows at me. "So, I take your virginity and now you can't get enough of me. I created a monster."

I giggle and pull the towel away from him to finish for myself.

"Hey, you're not mad at me, are you?" I suddenly remember what I had wanted to ask him now that I am no longer naked.

Paul sighs and shakes his head at me. "I was wondering when the Embry bed sharing incident was going to come up."

I cringe. "We weren't sharing a bed!" I demand. "I was scared."

"I know," Paul smiles reassuringly at me. "It's my fault. I should have known you weren't ready."

"It's not that I wasn't ready," I mumble, though I have no idea if I am telling the truth. Honestly, I have no idea if I would have called Jake to get Paul to come back if Embry hadn't shown up, but I would like to think that I wouldn't have. "I had a nightmare and Embry heard. I didn't ask for him to come in; he came through the window in the midst of…" My voice trails off and I shift my gaze.

"What?" Paul asks.

I shake my head.

"Your panic attack?" Paul asks gently.

I gulp.

"Scarlett, I'm not mad at you honey," Paul sighs, taking a step forward to rub my shoulders in his hot hands. "I think you need to be careful with Embry. I understand that you two are best friends, and like I said you are allowed to spend time with whomever you want, but Embry does not have as much self-control as you think he does."

My eyes widen. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I don't want him to do something that will ruin your friendship." His jaw tenses, "And I don't want him to do something that will force me to kill him and then have you blaming me for your friend's murder."

I sigh. "You're probably right."

"That's a first."

"Shut up," I roll my eyes.

"Now what I _am_ worried about," Paul takes my face between his hands and levels his gaze with mine. Paul's eyes are doing that thing in which they are glistening deeply into my soul- life would be a lot easier if he never looked at me like that. "Are the panic attacks. Are they back?"

"No," I answer immediately, matching his eyes.

"You had one yesterday," He points out.

"One," I remind him.

"One is more than none."

I moan. "I'm fine, Paul."

"Do you think you might want to… talk to someone?"

I freeze. Surely I hadn't heard him right. "What?" I ask, my voice as bland and monotone as my suddenly emotionless body feels.

"I just think," Paul strokes my wet hair sticking to the side of my face and kisses me softly. He is speaking to me in such a gentle way that makes me wonder if he had planned this conversation. "That maybe it would help you. You were abused for _fifteen years_ , Scarlett. You're not supposed to be okay, you understand that, right?"

"Obviously I'm not okay," I roughly pull my face out of his hands and narrow my eyes at him. "I'm not an idiot."

"I never said that," Paul counters.

"Than what are you saying, Paul?" I demand, my voice growing obviously louder.

"I'm just suggesting that you try talking to someone who could help you deal with everything that you've been through. I'm not _saying_ anything."

"And I can't talk to you anymore?" I cross my arms tightly and take a step away from him. "Are you getting tired of dealing with me?"

"What? Are you crazy?"

"I _am not crazy!_ " I scream so loud that Paul actually grows white, his eyes growing visibly wider right in front of me. And suddenly, my emotions hit me in the head like a freaking boulder and I can't help myself from bursting out in tears.

"Wow."

Paul takes a step forward and ignores my complaints as he shoves me to his chest and wraps his arms around me, rocking me back and forth as he whispers sweet nothings into my ear.

I close my eyes and press my mouth into his shirt. I blink my eyes rapidly to stop crying.

"Okay," Paul sighs and kisses the side of my head. "Perhaps the therapy conversation could have waited until after your birthday."

I sniffle and nod my head into his chest.

"I'm sorry. It's your birthday and I am supposed to be making you smile and laugh, not fucking cry. Fuck, I am really fucking it up."

I laugh and shake my head. "You're not fucking anything up, Paul," I sigh. "It's just a birthday; it doesn't mean anything."

"Today it does." Paul pulls me away from him and then holds me out by my shoulders. "Look at me." I do as I am told. "I don't think you're crazy. Not even close. I think that you're beautiful, and strong, and incredible, but I think that refusing professional help just because your pride is telling you to wouldn't be in your best interest."

I go to argue but he cute me off.

"But the ultimate decision is yours and we'll talk about this later."

I sigh and roll my eyes. "I am never talking about this with you ever again."

"That's fine," Paul sighs, and then I hear him mumble, "Maybe I'll just have Embry bring it up with you; you seem to listen to _him_."

I try not to wonder what the hell that means.

"So," Paul smiles widely. "Are you ready for the best birthday ever?"

My expression remains neutral. "Sure."

"Sure? Come on, Scar," Paul pushes.

"Honestly," I tighten my arms around my chest. "Right now I'm pretty pissed."

"Don't be pissed," Paul flashes me the same smile that has literally dropped girls, many girls (much to my distain), to their knees. I blink at him. "I have a present for you."

"I don't take bribes."

"Even shiny bribes?" He smiles even wider.

"Well, what is it?" I can't help it, my interest is most definitely peaked, though as soon as I ask I slam my mouth shut and turn away from him. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

"Yes you do," Paul laughs. "Here." He opens the cabinet under the sink and then pulls out a medium sized blue box. I notice the wrapping, terrible and with about two pounds of tape, and suddenly I just can't be mad at him anymore.

"How the heck did you manage to get this in here without me noticing?" I smile at him.

"You sleep a lot."

I roll my eyes, though I take the present. I try to show some restraint as I rip open the wrapping paper and let it land on the floor. I pull off the lid and am confronted with something black and silk and most definitely shiny.

My eyes widen and I shove the box at him. "No thank you!" I blush.

"Scarlett," Paul bursts out laughing. "You don't even know what it is yet!"

"You bought me lingerie?" I stammer.

"No!" Paul laughs. "Well, actually, that'll come later."

I gasp again.

"But _this_ is not. I swear! Please, just take it." I remain uncertain, and Paul can sense my hesitation. "Come on, baby girl. For me?"

I slowly reach my shaking hand out and pull whatever it is out.

"Oh."

It is small.

It is silky.

It is definitely sexy.

But it is only a robe.

I smile with relief and then let the towel drop to slip it around my shoulders. "I like this!"

"See," Paul laughs.

"What's it for?" I ask, giddy now. See, now _this_ is my kind of perfect birthday. Perhaps all Paul has planned is a day in bed; I could deal with that.

"It's your uniform for the morning festivities." Paul ties the robe for me and then pulls it open a tad more in the middle to show off some more cleavage. I swat his hand away and shake my head disapprovingly.

"Come on." Paul pulls me forward and then taps my butt.

"Come where?" I ask, though as soon as he opens the bedroom door for me and I see a trail of red rose petals littering the floor in a line that goes straight and then turns right and out the door, I forget how to speak.

"P-Paul," I stammer, my mouth parting slightly.

"Follow the red-brick road." He pushes me forward.

I giggle. "I think it's a yellow-brick road, babe. The red is in the shoes."

"Details." He kisses the back of my head and places his hands on my waist as he follows me. I exit the bedroom and then find that the trail goes all the way through the hallway and down the stairs. I am beginning to grow giddy at the gesture when it finally leads into the kitchen and then stops at the island. The seat at the island is covered in more rose petals, and there is breakfast set up with pancakes and waffles and bacon amuck- though it isn't the breakfast I am enamored with.

The kitchen is filled, and I mean _filled_ with so many silver balloons that I can barely make out the wall color. Paul gently pushes me forward and I giggle as I push my way through.

"Paul," I chuckle. "This is crazy! How did you even- oh my God!" I turn on him, holding my finger up in an accusatory way as he smiles blissfully. "This is where you went last night! You weren't going on patrol! You went to get things for my birthday!"

He smiles widely. "I had Embry waiting outside the apartment in case you caught on and decided to come after me, and Jacob waiting for a call to call me if you got scared or suspicious."

"But how-," I stop, suddenly realizing as I take a mental note to think before I just speak. "Nessie."

Paul laughs. "We collected everything and had it all stored there. I just needed her help transporting."

I giggle. "Excessive."

"You don't like it?" I can sense the nervousness in his tone.

"Don't be ridiculous." I smile enthusiastically and jump into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him hard, right on the lips. "You're amazing. This is incredible. So freaking sweet, Lahote. It's annoying."

He laughs, kisses me once more, and then sets me down. "Sit and eat your breakfast. I made pancakes _and_ waffles!"

"Did I mention you are sweet _and_ smart?"

"Nope so keep the complements coming." He steals a piece of my bacon and I giggle and steal it back before he has a chance to eat it. "But you better hurry. When you tried to fight with me it put us about ten minutes off schedule."

I roll my eyes. "I didn't try to fight with anyone. _You_ decided to be an ass."

"Not in the slightest," Paul scoffs.

"Shut up and let me eat my pancakes. Jesus. It's my birthday and I can't even get a second of peace? You know what I want for my birthday?" I finally demand.

"What?" Paul laughs openly.

"To be right. All. Day. Long. No arguing. No disagreeing or opinions. I am right and that is that."

"Oh yeah," Paul laughs and shoots me a flirty smile. "Fine, but if you're going to demand another gift I'll have to take one away." He pulls on the tie of my robe and I gasp.

"Paul Lahote!"

"Won't you just walk around the house naked? For me?" Paul whines.

"Already had this discussion and no way."

"Evil," He mutters.

"Thought it was my birthday," I raise my eyebrows at him.

Paul offers me a fake smile. "I meant sweet and super understanding and not insane."

I offer a tight smile of my own. "Much better."

"Who knew one would be so sassy on their first ever birthday," Paul shakes his head.

"Ugh, Paul," I somehow get out while chewing a ginormous helping of waffle. "I'm 18. I've had about 17 of these before this one."

"Yeah but you've never actually had a real _birthday_ before," He smiles gently at me and then comes over to stand behind me. Paul pulls all of my hair behind my back and then wraps his arms around my shoulders, kissing my head and then resting his cheek on it. "So don't be in a bad mood, baby. Please? I want to make today perfect."

I sigh and lean my bad into him. "I'm sorry. I had a lot of nightmares last night," I finally admit.

"I'm sorry." He kisses the side of my head and I can practically hear the guilt in his voice.

"Don't be," I tilt my face up and smile genuinely at him. "I'm fine."

"What are your nightmares about?" He asks softly, his eyes coaxing the words right out of me.

"Paul," I moan in protest.

I notice him gulp and then run his fingers down the side of my face. "He's dead, Scarlett."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "I didn't say anything about him," I mumble.

"You think you have to tell me for me to know what you're thinking?" He whispers into my hair and then kisses it.

I sigh and finally let myself fall into him. "I'm sorry I'm being so terrible to you." I pull his arms tighter around my chest. "You're amazing, Lahote. Annoyingly amazing, actually."

Paul laughs and I love the way that his chest vibrates against my back. "You really hate your birthday, don't you?"

I bite the corner of my lip. Perhaps the reason for my terrible mood today has much less to do with waking up on the wrong side of the bed and more to do with waking up on a specific day.

I twist myself on the stool and kneel up on my knees to hold myself up. I place my hands on his shoulders and smile sweetly at him. "Take me to bed, Pauley?"

Paul's jaw tenses.

I giggle and then hop off onto my feet. "You're right," I sigh and feign innocence. "We've _really_ got to get going."

Paul's mouth drops. "Did you just tease me, Scarlett?" Paul smiles widely, a twinkle behind her eye that is impossible to miss. I am beginning to realize that Paul loves when I am bold, though if I could just figure out how to do that more often without blushing like a damn idiot and looking like a complete freak, that would be great, I would do it much more often for him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I smile sweetly.

"Oh you know exactly what I am talking about," He rubs the scruff of his jaw and laughs deeply. "I'm in for it, aren't I?"

I roll my eyes. "Chill, Lahote."

"No way!" Paul laughs. "You can't tease me and then act all annoyed when I get turned on. You're hot, babe. Accept it."

I burst out laughing. "I'll work on that."

"Good." He holds out his hands and I let him pull me closer.

"I understand that this day is difficult for you. But please, _please_ trust me today. Let me handle everything. Let me make this day different than what you're used to. Please, just let me do _something_ for you."

I actually laugh and then shake my head. "Something? Seriously?" I motion around the room. "You're amazing. This is so sweet, Paul. Thank you."

"Of course." He kisses me and then smiles, and I suddenly realize we aren't talking heavy anymore, and though neither of us said it, we both agreed to what Paul had asked me. "You taste like syrup. Finish eating." He leads me back into my seat and I am suddenly ridiculously content with the plate set out before me.

"That's right," I say as I take a giant fork-full. "I'm sweet!"

"Yeah you're fucking sweet alright, my Scarlett. But just sweet for me, right?"

I giggle. "Of course, Pauley."

He successfully steals a piece of bacon and manages to get it into his mouth before I grab it back. "There's my girl."

"Do you feel less creepy now that you're dating an adult?" I smile innocently at him.

"Much less creepy," Paul laughs.

"Hey Paul," I sit back in my seat, having finished my plate and suddenly very interested. "How old are you, exactly?" I have always known that Paul was in his mid twenties, but I never really asked the exact age.

He cringes. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"No," I shrug. "To be honest, I never really thought about it, and it never came up, so," I shrug again.

"I'm twenty-five," Paul sighs.

I giggle. "You do realize that you deflowered me at the tender age of 17, right?"

"Stop," Paul moans and shuts his eyes, roughly rubbing his hands over them.

I just laugh harder. "That's an," I pretend to ponder it. "Eight year age difference."

"Okay, look, relax over there. You begged for it, remember that? Or are your memories subjective?"

I burst out laughing. "Definitely subjective. And hey, it's my birthday anyways, so basically whatever I say happened is the truth. In my mind you seduced me with that smile and those eyes and then you kissed me and said something super inappropriate so that all my limbs stopped responding to me and my voice wouldn't work and _that_ is how I lost my virtue.

Paul laughs loudly. "Great. Just great. Are you done yet?"

"Done!" I rub my stomach happily.

"Perfect." Paul pulls me into his arms and then runs back upstairs. He tosses me on the bed and I squeal as my body hits the mattress. "Get dressed," He throws me another box, wrapping slightly more terrible than the first one, which makes me love him more.

"Is this the one I should be worried about?" I point at it suspiciously.

"No," Paul laughs. "Nothing inappropriate, I swear."

I breathe a breath of relief and then tear open the wrapping, digging into this present faster and less careful than I had been with the robe. Inside the box is a coat, but not a heavy, winter coat. It is deep green and when I pull it out and hold it up, I am momentarily stunned at how nice it is.

The fabric is thick and expensive feeling, and the sleeves are slender and the body will hug my curves in all the right places. The sleeves are rolled and the front is open.

"T-This is beautiful," I finally manage to speak, still staring at it.

"You like it?" Paul asks.

"I- I- I've never had something like this before." I finally look up at him and smile widely. "I love it. I _love_ it!"

"Good," Paul laughs. "Now put it on. We're late."

"Okay!" I drop my robe and then slip the light, fall-ish coat onto my body. "Ready!"

Paul laughs, though I notice how his eyes drop to my chest and then everything else that is bare. "Preferably with clothes on," He rubs his jaw and looks me up and down twice. "Or without," A vein tenses in his neck.

I giggle and carefully peel the new coat off of me, setting on the bed tenderly and then slipping my equally as new robe back on. "I'm going to go get dressed."

"You do that," Paul sighs and throws himself down on the bed.

I decide on a pair of tight jeans, a black shirt and the jacket, with a pair of high black boots that come past my knees that I already knew were sexy, but judging from the way that Paul's eyes widened and his muscles tensed I think I may have underestimated how much.

I straightened my hair and added a little bit of eye makeup, too, which I decided on specifically for Paul because I know how much he likes me in those things and I have been nothing sort of a terror this morning so I figured he deserved it. After that, Paul practically forced me into his car.

He is currently refusing to tell me where we are going.

"I _hate_ surprises," I mumble angrily, my arms crossed as I stare out the window.

"Stop pouting," Paul instructs me.

"I am not pouting, Lahote!" I demand.

"Okay, okay!" He holds up his hands in surrender and laughs. "Can I get a smile, birthday girl?"

I roll my eyes.

"Come on," He pokes my leg.

I swat his hand away.

"Come on," He pushes, tickling my sides a little bit. "Scarlett, please don't make me start talking in a baby-voice at you."

I can't help but smile though I shake my head at myself. It's just Paul, it's impossible to be mad at the guy even when I am sure that I am.

"There you go," Paul smiles that bring-you-to-your-knees smile that has gotten him in trouble in his past and then kisses the back of my hand. "You're beautiful when you smile like that." He squeezes my hand.

"I'm always beautiful," I huff.

Paul bursts out laughing. "God you're hot when you're sassy!" He yells.

I jump up and then practically snort I laugh so hard. "You're such a weirdo," I giggle.

" _Yeah_ , something _really_ must be wrong with me if I love you." He pulls up at a red light and then leans over to kiss me. I clasp my hand around his neck and pull him closer, not wanting to let go.

"Mm, baby," He murmurs into my lips.

"Cancel your plans," I kiss him deeply. "Let's go back to your place." I blush just from being so forward.

Paul laughs and pulls away, "Nice try, sweetheart." He winks at me.

I roll my eyes and set a frown on my face as I sit back down in the seat.

It takes about fifteen familiar minutes to get to where we are going. Once we finally get there, however, to say that I am pleasantly surprised would be an understatement.

"Oh," I cock my head as Paul pulls into Emily and Sam's driveway. "This isn't half bad, Lahote!" I exclaim. "Really! I am pleasantly surprised!"

He rolls his eyes. "I know you, Scarlett, and I know what you would want for your birthday."

I swoon. "You're the best boyfriend," I pretend to faint in my seat.

He chuckles. "Come on, honey."

I happily exit the car. This seriously turned out so much better than I thought. A calm, casual day at Emily's is exactly how I want to celebrate today, because it involves about zero actual celebrating. I squeeze Paul's hand and then pop up to kiss him quickly. "Love you!"

He holds the door open for me and I step through the threshold.

"Surprise!"

I scream and jump back.

Oh no.

* * *

Emily's quaint house is filled to the brim with people. There is everyone from the back, their girlfriends or in Sam's case, his wife, and then the Cullen's too. Mrs. Lahote is here, too.

My mouth drops.

"Ugh," I stammer.

"Surprise!" Nessie bursts through the crowd and jumps into my arms to give me a big hug. "Happy birthday!"

"T-thanks," I stammer. I gently push her off of me and then take a hesitant step back, towards the door.

"Told ya screaming surprise at an abuse victim wasn't your best idea," Embry sighs at Renesmee.

"Embry!" A chorus of voices scold him.

I giggle.

"There's my girl," Paul nudges my shoulder. "Are you surprised?" He teases me.

"Funny," I roll my eyes.

"Hi," I finally smile at the crowd.

"Um, hi!" Nessie hugs me again, and this time I hug her back. "I'm guessing this was your idea," I pretend to laugh in her ear, though my voice is less than happy.

"Smile it's your birthday," She smiles widely, her voice picking up at the end.

"Oh you are so dead!" I whisper through a smile.

"Happy birthday, Scar!" Jacob hugs me gently, just enough hug but not too much touching, and I am reminded how Jacob is probably the nicest guy out of all of them, which makes him slightly deserve my annoyingly amazing best friend.

Jared is next, and while Jacob showed restraint Jared has none. He practically barrels me, and then Seth comes in from the other side and I am squished between two giant men.

"Get off of her! Jesus Christ! Paul Lahote, help her!" I hear a familiar, older female voice.

"Alright, guys, you're suffocating my girlfriend." I feel Paul pull me away from them and wheeze out a thank you. I don't have long to recover before Mrs. Lahote, the one who had voiced her concern just a few seconds ago, wraps me up in a hug that is just as warm and inviting as her son's, that I suddenly realize where he got it from.

The other members of the pack each have qualities that make them uniquely perfect in their own ways. Jared is funny, Seth is kind, Jacob is just an overall good guy, Sam is serious but responsible, Quil is sweet and Embry is just a little bit of everything. Paul, on the other hand, is overwhelmingly warm; he is charming and dripping with sweetness and has arms that make you forget what planet you are on.

"Hi Mrs. Lahote," I smile as she pulls away.

"Oh, honey!" She kisses my cheek. "Happy birthday! You look beautiful!"

"Thank you," I blush. "Paul got the coat for me," I show it off to her.

"Oh that is just beautiful, Paul!" She hugs Paul and then kisses his cheek and rubs her lipstick off of his skin by licking her thumb.

"Mom," He complains and tries to pull away.

I giggle at the sight of them.

Paul flashes me a small smile and I can't help myself. I wrap my arms around his side and let him wrap his arm around me in front of everyone. "Thank you," I whisper into his neck.

"You don't hate me?"

I cock my eyebrow at him. "Were you nervous?"

"Yes," Paul laughs.

"No I don't hate you Paul," I laugh and wrap my arms around his neck to kiss him. As soon as our lips touch I feel my legs give out from under me, and suddenly Paul dips me right in the middle of Emily's kitchen.

"Oooo!" I hear a few chants and whistles.

"Paul," I giggle against his mouth. He smiles, kisses me quickly once more and then stands me back up straight.

"Happy birthday!" Kim cuts in. "You look hot!"

"Thanks Kim," I smile and hug her back.

"Congrats on the sex by the way," She whispers as she pulls away.

I gasp and turn red.

Mr. Cullen comes up next, though, when he sees me he suddenly flinches and then walks in the other direction.

I frown.

That was weird.

The rest of the Cullen's aren't as shy, though. Mrs. Cullen hugs me first. "Happy birthday, Scarlett."

"Thanks," I smile shyly once she pulls away.

"I always hated celebrating my birthday too," She smiles at me.

"Really?" I breathe a breath of relief.

"Yes," Mrs. Cullen laughs. "You'll be fine. Just try not to get any paper cuts."

She giggles and when I finally realize that she must be referring to being a vampire my eyes widen.

"Oh she's kidding," Rose rolls her eyes and then hugs me. She smells ridiculously amazing and like something seriously expensive. "Gosh Bella, just because you ruin parties doesn't mean Scarlett needs to, too."

I smile, though I feel as if I am out of an inside joke.

"Happy birthday Scar!" Emmett moans as he lifts me high in the air and I squeal.

"Happy birthday," Jasper nods friendly at me once his brother sets me down.

"Thanks guys," I giggle.

"Let me through, boys," I hear spit-fire Alice Cullen pushing her way towards me. "Scarlett!"

"Alice!" I laugh.

"Happy birthday!"

"Thank you," I laugh. "Thanks for coming!"

"Of course," Alice pulls away to look at me. "Ah-ha! I knew you would love this!" She is staring at my jacket.

"You did?"

"Happy birthday, Scarlett!" Emily cuts in to hug me and I am suddenly pulled to the next person. My head is spinning.

"Thanks Em," I let the way that she always smells like baked goods calm me just a little bit. "And thanks for letting my boyfriend ruin your house," I giggle.

"Always," She squeezes me tightly.

Sam hugs me next, slightly tense and offering a curt smile. I almost laugh. He is so the opposite of Emily it is hysterical to me.

Leah is next, and then a little girl who I have no idea who she is but she really seems to know me.

"Hi Scarlett!" She squeaks, pushing her glasses farther up her nose and smiling up at me.

"Ugh, hi?" I laugh. "What's your name?"

"I'm Claire," She smiles widely. "Quil's Claire!"

"Oh!" I laugh. "You must be Quil's little sister! It's nice to meet you!" I hold out my hand and she shakes it confidently.

"Oh, Quiley's not my brother. You're really pretty," She says shyly.

"Claire- Claire- ugh, Claire!" Quil's tone is scolding as he comes up to me. "I told you I would introduce you, you little gremlin!"

"It's okay, Quil," I laugh. "We're already great friends, right Claire?" I cock an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah!" She jumps in the air and pumps her fist.

I laugh loudly; that was adorable.

Quil places his hands on her shoulders and smiles down at her. He has that same look in his eye, which is funny because he is definitely not in love with her, but it's the same one that Quil and Jacob and Jared and Sam and… Oh my God.

 _Holy crap!_

"Oh my God!" I blurt. "You _imprinted_ on Claire?" I gasp.

"Shhhhh!" His eyes grow wide.

"Quil?" Claire peers up at him sweetly. "What's imprinted mean?"

"Ugh, nothing," He mumbles. "Let's ugh-, let's go get some food."

"Ooo I am hungry!" She laughs and then goes running in the opposite direction, sending Quil chasing after her.

I rub my eyes and can't help but stare at them as he lifts her into his arms to start putting her plate together, for she is too short to reach the counter. It is so creepy in a not-creepy but has to be creepy sort of way.

"Don't I get a hug?"

I turn my head to the side to see Embry leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and a small smile on his face.

I roll my eyes. "You let this happen. Seriously Embry?"

He shakes his head. "Totally not my idea."

"Well I know whose idea it was," I laugh. "But I would have thought that you would have at least put up a fight for my overall mental well-being."

He laughs. "Paul is in charge of that home front so not my problem, Princess."

I roll my eyes and finally hug him. I rest my forehead on his shoulder and close my eyes for a moment.

"Happy birthday," He tells me casually.

"Thanks," I sigh and pull away.

"You know what," He sighs and looks around the room.

"What?"

"I think Paul's good for you," He nods his head once.

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. "You do, huh?" I think the world has already proven that Paul is _the only_ good thing for me.

"Yep. If I was with you I wouldn't have done any of this because I know how uncomfortable it would make you. But it's good. You should go out of your comfort zone. Paul's good for that. He's fun."

I laugh but then I shake my head. "You shouldn't talk like that, Embry," I say quietly.

He smiles. "Here." He holds out a flat, rectangular wrapped present with perfect wrapping. "Nessie wrapped it."

I smile and take it. And that, right there, is why Paul Lahote will always be my man. Paul is probably the worst wrapper I have ever encountered, but I can just imagine him sitting on the floor trying as hard as he can to make it perfect. I smile to myself at the thought.

I clear my throat and open the one from Embry. As soon as it is out of the packaging I squeal with excitement. "How did you find this?" I scream.

He laughs. "That's the right one, right?"

"Yes!" I laugh and jump up and down. "I can't believe you found this! The one with the three witches and the,"

"Kid with the fake leg?"

"Yes!" I exclaim.

"I just, I can't believe you remembered," I smile at him. "Embry," I reach out to touch his arm. "Thank you."

While in the hospital, I had described to him multiple times a certain horror movie that I had seen at least ten years ago. We tried endlessly to find it, with absolutely no luck. I had seriously given up hope on ever finding the best horror movie in the world; I mean, we had even created a Yahoo Answers question.

"Hey, Scar," Jacob pulls on my arm. "Cake."

"Oh, okay!" I wave at Embry and let Jacob pull me away.

"Alright, I get that you two are friends, but you seriously need to relax with all the touching."

I look up at him, the breath having caught in my throat. "What?" I breathe.

Jacob gives me a pointed look. "Come on, Scar. I don't think anyone saw, but if Paul had I think he might have killed him."

"We're just friends," I grumble. "For the fifth time."

"That may be true for you, but I've seen into Embry's head," Jacob sighs. "And I can assure you, Embry is _not_ just your friend."

I recoil from the silent blow. "But- I mean- I love Paul," I state.

"Well obviously," Jacob nudges my shoulder and smiles. "But how would you feel if Paul was that close with one of the girls here? A _single_ girl here?"

I sigh. "Is it impossible for girls to just be friends with guys anymore?" I am suddenly frustrated.

"When you look like that, yeah," He laughs and leaves me off in the kitchen, right next to Paul.

"I love you, just looking out for you kid." He squeezes my shoulders and exits the room.

"There you are." Paul pulls me to his side and kisses my cheek quickly. I suddenly feel terribly guilty. Of course I don't have those types of feelings for Embry, but I still can't help but feel like I am doing something wrong, especially now that Jacob called me on it.

I hug him tightly around the waist. "I love you so much," I squeeze him tightly.

"I'm glad," Paul laughs and pats my back. "I love you too."

I smile widely. "Is it time for cake?"

He laughs. "It's always time for cake."

"Who's this from?" Paul asks, pointing to the movie in my hand.

"Oh, just Embry," I shrug. "Are you going to sing to me?"

"Would it make you pass out from embarrassment?"

"Yes," I giggle. "But if you would like to sing I would gladly go through it."

"Look at you, being so sweet," He leans into me and my back hits the island. I blush being this close to him in front of everyone.

"This was really nice, Paul," I say quietly.

"Stop thanking me," He brushes my hair out of my face. "There isn't a girl in the world who deserves it more than you."

I close my eyes and kiss him. I am still kissing him when the lights dim and Nessie and Kim carry in my cake.

* * *

"That was really fun," I giggle to as Paul wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads me back to the car. It is dark at this point, and the party is over.

They sang me happy birthday and then all laughed when I got so red Paul pretended to fan me off, and then they forced me to sit in a big chair with a sash that said "Birthday Girl" as I opened everyone's gifts. The most memorable gifts were from Jared and Seth who got together and got me tons of really funny tee-shirts with pictures of dancing pineapples and such, a new bikini from Kim, my very own Polaroid camera from Nessie, a framed picture of Paul and I from Mrs. Lahote, and then an entirely ridiculous check accounting to $3,000 for new furniture from all the Cullen's.

I will definitely be sending that one back.

"You didn't mind that it was kind of boring?" Paul smiles down at me.

"Boring?" I blurt. "That was great! Exactly how I wanted to spend my birthday." I squeeze his hand. "I've never had a birthday birthday before, or a family for that matter. It was perfect."

Paul's face falls.

I sigh. "Don't feel bad for me, Lahote."

"I'm not." He spins me at the car and presses my back up against the truck. Paul cups my face in his hands and then strokes his thumbs along my cheeks. The moon is illuminating his features.

"You're beautiful," I blurt.

Paul's lips pull up at the corners. "No, _you're_ beautiful, Scarlett."

I blush.

"Are you ready for your last present?"

My eyes bulge. "There's more?"

"Of course there's more," Paul laughs. "You," He kisses me, "Deserve. The. World." He parts from me and smiles, and I just can't take it anymore.

I press my mouth to his and relish in his fingers that slide down my neck. His mouth trails from my lip, down my jaw, and then starts sucking on that part of my neck that he knows I love.

"Paul," I breathe. I tip my head to the side and he catches my head again. I smile, for I have grown to expect that.

"Scarlett! You forgot your, Oh!"

I gasp and break away from Paul.

"Oh, ugh," I press my hair out of my face and attempt to stand up straighter. I wonder how I look to her, disheveled and turned on and terrified.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Nessie looks between the two of us and laughs. "Didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"You didn't," I say at the same time that Paul says, "It's fine."

I narrow my eyes at him and he stifles a laugh. God, is it annoying how calm, cool and collected he can be after I am literally trying to figure out how to breathe right again after his lips.

"I'll start the car," Paul says, though I can tell that he is suppressing a laugh.

Nessie jumps over to me and laughs boisterously as she hugs me again. "So how's the sex?" She asks quietly.

"Nessie!" I blush. "Just give me what I forgot already."

"Oh," Nessie seems to ponder this. "Yeah you didn't forget anything, I just really wanted to ask you about the sex."

"Okay you seriously need to stop referring to it as 'the sex'," I shake my head at her.

"I heard Paul's like, crazy," Her eyes grow wide. "What kind of things did he do?"

"I don't know!" I squeak. "Stuff!"

"Ooo I was meaning to ask what positions! I've heard he knows how to do _everything_."

"Nessie!" I finally explode. "I- I- thanks for the party but I have to go!"

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Text me with deets?"

"Ugh, no," I look at her like she is crazy.

"Good plan!"

I shake my head at her as I walk towards the car. "What did you forget?" Paul asks once I am inside.

"Her sanity," I sigh. "Ready to go home? I could use a bath tonight," I smile innocently and rest my head against the seat.

"That's sounds great," Paul squeezes my hand. "But your birthday's not over yet."

I frown. "What?"

"Last surprise. And you'll like this one, I promise."

* * *

I have decided that I really need to stop questioning Paul Lahote.

This last part of my birthday, turns out to be a hotel room in Seattle. Though I have to fight with Paul about not needing the excessing and ridiculously expensive Deluxe Honeymoon suite and force him to down-grade, I have to say that this is ridiculously sweet.

He even packed a bag for me.

We get into the room that has a large bed in the middle of it, and then huge floor to ceiling windows on each side.

I go to turn the lights on but Paul catches my fingers. "Not yet."

I bite the corner of my lip and head towards the bed. I suddenly wonder about what Nessie had said at the car earlier. Don't get me wrong, Paul Lahote makes my head spin and my knees shake and my thighs quiver, but crazy? Have we done anything _crazy_?

I blush as I think about her asking about positions. He mostly goes on top, and then of course there was that one time when I was in his lap. But other than that, Paul has been very… sweet.

Something about that doesn't seem right.

"Hey Paul," I run my fingers along the length of the bed and then sit down on the edge of it.

"Yeah, Scar?"

"Do you... hold back when you're having sex with me?"

His eyes bulge. "W-what?" He stammers.

"I'm just," I giggle nervously and then set my gaze at the floor. "Worried that you are worried about hurting me, and you're more, careful than you should be."

Paul hands gently grasp the sides of my face as he pulls it up. My eyes meet his understanding ones and I wonder again how I got so lucky.

"Are you not feeling pleased, Scarlett?" He asks gently.

"What?" I gasp. My mouth literally drops open. "N-no! No! That is definitely not the problem."

Paul laughs. "I didn't think so."

"I'm just… wondering if we could try new things?" My voice picks up at the end and his eyebrows follow suite.

"Oh?"

My face heats up in an instant. "Never mind," I mumble, completely embarrassed and just wanting this conversation to come to an abrupt halt.

"No, not never mind," Paul reaches for my face again but I pull away.

"Please, _please_ just pretend like I never said anything," I beg him. "Please, Paul."

"Scarlett," Paul laughs quietly. "You don't have to be embarrassed talking about this with me."

"How?" I finally explode. "How do you possibly expect me to do that?" Paul's eyes are wide as he watches me. "And how are _you_ so fine? Please, explain it to me!"

He presses his lips so tightly together it looks painful and then pretends to nod his head in understanding.

"Ugh!" I shove his arms away and then fall down onto the bed.

"Baby," Paul finally laughs and I narrow my eyes at the ceiling. "If you want to try different things we can. Of course we can. I admit that I have been a little, timid, with you."

I pick my head up. "Really?"

"Yes," Paul laughs. "Of course. Really timid, actually. You were a virgin, and I love you. I told you I've never had sex with anyone that I loved before. I didn't want to hurt you or freak you out."

"I love freaky things," I use my elbows to prop me up and then cock my head and offer him a wide smile. "Get freaky with me, Lahote."

"Oh, God," Paul laughs and then shakes his head at the ceiling. "You're going to send me to jail," He growls and pulls me down the bed and closer to him by my hips.

I giggle.

"What kind of things are you thinking about?" He strokes his hand up and down the inside of my thigh and I bite the corner of my lip, trying to conceal the wave of excitement that shoots down my spine.

I am saved by the sound of a gunshot.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

"Paul!" Scarlett screeches, her voice full of worry and fear as she runs towards me. She throws her little body at my chest and huddles close to me.

"Woah," I can't help but laugh as I wrap my arms around her shoulders. "It's okay, Scarlett," I am still unable to stop laughing. "Relax."

"Relax?" Scarlett pulls away with that same alarmed look still present in her eyes. "Someone is shooting at us!"

I burst out laughing while Scarlett looks on completely confused. I actually lean over and grab my stomach.

"Paul?" She reaches for my arm uncertainly.

"Scarlett," I finally manage to contain myself. "They're not gunshots, sweetie." I pull her rigid body over to the window and then point. "They're fireworks."

Scarlett's eyes grow wide in wonder. "Oh!" Her voice peaks in excitement.

I chuckle and shake my head. There is something so innately innocent about Scarlett that is ridiculously endearing.

"The plan was to bring you outside," I sigh. "But then you started getting all dirty and I lost track of time."

Scarlett blushes right before my very eyes and I hug her from behind, taking a deep breath of her incredible scent and feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment fill entire body.

As Scarlett watches, completely enamored by the fireworks show that I put on as a finale to her birthday, I let my mind wander as to what exactly Scarlett wants to do differently in the bedroom. At first I had worried that I hadn't been properly pleasing her, but based off of her many orgasms and her response, I really don't think that is it. I have to tense from growing excited at all the ideas.

Suddenly, Scarlett turns towards me. There are tears in her beautiful, blue eyes that are suddenly searching mine. I look right back at her, worried now, though when she kisses me, unexpectedly and full of passion, I forget how to even think. I pull her close to me by her waist and kiss her back. Scarlett has kissed me deeply before, but I don't ever think like this.

She pulls away and a tear falls down her cheek, though something is telling me that it isn't a sad one. "Make love to me," She whispers in that sweet, singsong voice that is somehow sexy at the same time.

I pull her up into my arms and carry her over to the bed.

My hands find her sides and immediately pull off her shirt, not really feeling like going slow anymore. I want to feel her, all of her, every piece of her against every piece of me.

"Don't be gentle," She says, her voice deep and airy.

I moan as I rip her bra off of her, destroying the clasp in the process and then quickly pull her pants off and throw them across the room.

I force myself to slow down before my fingers go right to the place inside of her that they are demanding that I let them enter.

"I don't want to scare you," I tell her honestly, gasping and wheezing at her bare chest.

"You're not going to scare me, Paul," She digs her hands in my hair.

"Scarlett," I pull up and kiss her deeply. I wait a second after that for her to find herself again, for I know that she can get lost after a few of those. "When I became a wolf, there are certain… parts of myself that are kind of… animalistic." The admittance actually embarrasses _me_ , which is a total twist to our relationship. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not going to hurt me," Scarlett tangles her fingers into my hair and pulls me close. "Can I-," She blushes, though her lips are still yearning for mine.

"Can you what?" I push, my hands shaking from how badly I want to hear what she wants to do.

"Can I," Scarlett giggles slightly. "C-c-can I go on top?"

I am surprised I don't cum right then and there.

I moan and roll over so that she is on top of me. In a way this is better. I can completely lose myself in her yet not be afraid of hurting her because she is the one in control. And holy fuck, does she look hot at this angle.

Scarlett straddles my hips and then looks down on me as she bites her lip, obviously intimidated.

"Don't be nervous," I stroke my fingers across her cheek.

"Teach me?" She whispers gently.

"Holy fuck," I mumble to myself and shake my head at the ceiling. _Scarlett,_ I want to tell her, _you can't just sit on top of me in a bra and underwear and tell me to teach you. I love you but fuck when you say things like that you could kill a man!_ I nod to her because I don't trust what my mouth would say.

I rip her panties down the center and then watch Scarlett watch with an open mouth as they fall down her thighs.

"Sorry," I say, though I am anything but.

"Are you going to give me my bad present now?" She bites her thick, beautiful lips and blushes.

"No," I growl. "I don't want you wearing anything."

Scarlett blushes and looks down at me. Her fingers are trembling as she reaches for my waistband. I stroke her hair as she fumbles with the buttons, shaking slightly and taking so long there is no denying how nervous she is, though I remain quiet. I run my fingers down her chest and twist her nipple gently in my fingers, a desire that I gave into but catered down to be sure not to hurt her.

Scarlett gasps and then moans, her eyes closing immediately. I twist it again, harder this time and her forehead creases in pleasure.

I help her unbutton my pants now, unable to wait any longer. I slip them off of me but leave my boxers on, waiting for her to do that part, though I really hope it is soon.

Thankfully, she is a little less timid this time as she pulls down my boxers and I am finally exposed to her. I basically spring out, that is how turned on she has me, and I hear Scarlett gasp and then look away, her face red as can be and her eyes wide.

"Scarlett," I reach for her shoulder and pull her back.

She finally looks at me and then bites her lip. "You're really big," She admits sheepishly.

I just barely laugh. "Couldn't you tell? I've been inside of you many times now."

She blushes such a dark shade of crimson I press my hand to her forehead to be sure that she isn't going to faint.

I guide her hips towards me, but she resists. "Wait, Paul," Scarlett smiles guiltily.

Wait? I frown at her.

Scarlett scoots down my legs and then leans down. She looks between my legs again, and though she blushes, she continues to move towards it. It isn't until I feel her mouth around me that I realize what exactly is going on.

My mouth drops as my head lifts on instinct.

Scarlett drops me and then looks at me with huge, blue eyes. "Was I doing it wrong?" She asks nervously.

"N-No," I stammer. "No. Keep going. Please."

Scarlett bites her lip and then stares down at me. She adjusts herself on top of me and then takes me into her mouth again. This time, she begins a slow rhythm up and down, and though it isn't far, it is _Scarlett_ , so cumming is definitely in the near future.

She presses down a little farther and gags, pulling out of me immediately. "Sorry," She smiles embarrassingly and wipes her mouth.

"Don't be," I breathe. "You're fucking incredible."

Scarlett giggles and then seems to take that as ammunition to continue. She goes a little faster this time, and when she gags she doesn't pull out, she just keeps going. I feel her hand now, timid and gentle, wrap around the lower part of me and begin to move in tune with her.

Holy shit.

She pulls away from me though she continues to hold me. "Am I doing this right?" Scarlett's eyes are wide and innocent as she smiles just a little bit.

I groan. "Yes." I reach out and stroke her hair. "Keep going."

Scarlett smiles and then does as she is told. God this girl is unreal.

"Look at me," I whisper. Scarlett bats her eyelashes open, and though I can sense her embarrassment, I could care less in this moment. I have never been so turned on watching something in my entire life. Scarlett, her eyes wide and blue and staring right at me, as her blonde hair flows around her while she gives me head.

I think I must have went to heaven.

"Oh, Scarlett," I shake my head and close my eyes for a moment. I moan and force myself not to force her head down farther. "Yes, baby girl," I stroke her hair.

Scarlett tries to go deeper and then gags again and pulls off.

"How do I do that?" She asks with a giggle and a blush.

"Relax your throat." I try to sound gentle but I am far past that point right now.

Scarlett nods and then tries again. It takes a few gags, but then I feel myself slide down her throat. Scarlett gasps and pulls out again, gagging as she does so.

I can't help but moan.

I am about to tell her that she can stop if it is too uncomfortable, when she is doing it again, and this time I am sliding right down into her throat again and again and again until she gags and has to pull away.

"Fuck," I breathe to myself. I grasp a handful of her hair and stroke my thumb across her cheek. "Oh, baby."

Scarlett gags again and then comes up. "Okay, I have to stop or I think I'm going to throw up," She says sheepishly.

"Ugh, Scarlett," I grab her face between my hands. "Get on me. I need to be inside of you."

Scarlett's eyes widen but I am not sure if that is due to surprise, excitement or embarrassment. Regardless, she positions herself overtop of me as I rub her to make sure that she is wet, which I immediately realize is not a problem.

"Did you like doing that for me, baby girl?" I smile knowingly at her, because she obviously did.

Scarlett blushes at me and doesn't answer. I press the tip of me against her opening and then reach for her hips to help her on.

She lowers herself onto me slowly, and when I am finally all inside her mouth drops and her eyes close. Now, this is the Scarlett that I know. I lift her hips and bounce her up and down.

Scarlett gasps and presses her hand to my chest. Her eyes pop open and she takes a few deep breaths. "It's so deep," She blurts.

I am suddenly terrified I hurt her. "Too deep?"

"No," Scarlett smiles, her voice quieter this time. "Not too deep. Let me do it."

I remove my hands from her waist and let them drop at my sides. Scarlett takes a steadying breath and I notice her gulp before she starts moving on top of me.

Oh God. This girl is really trying to kill me.

She places her perfect, soft hands on my chest and uses that to push her up and down. Her breasts bounce in the air and I can't handle it anymore.

 _I- Shit!_

I practically throw her off of me before I accidentally cum inside of her.

"Fuck," I breathe once I am finished. I reach for her and pull her back onto my stomach. "Careful," I warn her with a laugh.

Scarlett looks down where I am staring, dazed and confused, when she suddenly notices and then blushes ridiculously.

I grab a tissue off of the nightstand and clean myself quickly.

Scarlett repositions herself on top of me but I stop her. "Scarlett," I laugh, my head spinning. "I need a second."

"Oh," She blushes. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." I grab her roughly and then spin her around so that I am on top. Her eyes are wide. "Don't ever apologize for that. You are the sexiest woman on the entire planet. Do you hear me?"

She giggles at my serious tone. "Yes, Pauley."

"Ugh," I feel myself growing hard again when she runs her fingers down my lower lip. "Can I try something?" I ask her now.

Scarlett bites the center of her lip and then nods.

I gently guide her over onto her stomach and then lift her hips in the air. I notice her breath catch in her throat when I pull her arms up too so that they can hold her on the mattress on all fours. I position myself behind her and then…

Scarlett screams.

I mean, she actually screams.

I pull out of her as quickly as I possibly can, absolutely terrified. "Did I hurt you?" I stammer.

"Don't stop!" She moans, her voice heavy with need.

My mouth drops. "Jesus Christ," I mumble to myself.

When I continue, this fucking sex angel is screaming with every thrust. Holy fuck. Am I really about to cum again? Is that even humanly possible? Her knuckles grow white as she grasps the sheets, and she drops her face to the mattress.

Scarlett has completely and entirely lost herself.

I am going deeper than I ever have before, harder too, but my Scarlett loves it. All it takes is a few more strokes, and then she shakes all around me.

I hold her up once her body grows limp and silence remains. And then slowly, oh so very slowly, I lower her hips onto the mattress and then lie down next to her.

After a few minutes of silence I reach over, hoping that now that the fun is over she isn't hurting.

"Scarlett?" I ask.

No response.

I brush the endless white hair out of her face and then my eyes widen in shock.

Scarlett is fast asleep.

Did I kill her? I focus my eyes on her back to make sure that I didn't actually accidentally murder my reason for existence and breathe a breath of relief when I notice her body rising up and then down in a gentle rhythm. I blink my eyes tightly together in order to open them again and be sure that I am not actually dreaming.

I literally fucked Scarlett to sleep.

Holy shit.

* * *

I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you thought below! Thanks for all of the follows and faves!

Note:After the next few chapters, I am thinking about beginning to skip months and years to cover the most important moments in Paul and Scar's lives. I plan on dating the last regular chapter and then for each chapter after that, I will jump ahead and date those to reflect the month and year. How would you all feel about that? Looking for options!


	31. Breakthrough

Hi guys! As always, thanks for reading and prepare for a (surprising( chapter!

PS: I literally pulled an all-nighter writing this chapter when I needed to be studying for a HUGE nursing exam this morning. Just, say a prayer for me everyone, lol. *UPDATE* Nursing test went better than expected- woot woot!

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

"Scarlett!" I say frantically for what must be the tenth time.

Damn.

This one is bad.

Scarlett has been struggling with this panic attack, the same one that woke me up to find her with her head in her lap, rocking back and forth as she struggled to breathe, for at least twenty minutes.

I don't think any of her panic attacks have lasted this long.

I _finally_ see her eyes drop and her shoulder slump and suddenly her body goes limp in my arms.

"Babe," I pull her into my lap and hold her like a little girl. "I hate seeing you like that," I tell her, "I _hate_ it."

Since her birthday a week ago, Scarlett has had a panic attack almost every single night. And that is what is fucking terrifying me; we have had a _perfect_ week. No fighting, no crying, no emergencies, and she is _still_ getting them.

Scarlett's chest is rising and falling quickly, trying to retain as much oxygen as she lost, as she buries her face into my chest. I hold her close to me and rock her back and forth.

"Sorry," She mumbles into my skin, her voice muffled, apologizing just like she does every time.

"Don't be ridiculous," I sigh. "Honey," I sigh, wanting to word this right but not really knowing how. "This needs to stop." I rest my back against the headboard and bring her with me.

"You think I don't know!" She tries to yell, but her voice comes out in a mere squeak from lack of air.

"Shhh," I push her face back to my chest and begin running my fingers through the back of her hair.

It isn't until I feel her completely relax in my arms that I turn on her. "Scarlett," I say gently, looking down at her though she keeps her face pressed tightly into my chest. "What should we do? What do you want to do?"

She picks her head up, her blue eyes bright and confused. "What?"

I shake my head at her. "I can't let this go any longer," I finally say.

Scarlett raises her eyebrows and pulls away from me. " _You_ can't let it go on any longer? It's happening to me."

"Yeah I know that," I reach out and stroke the side of her hair with my palm. "But you need to do something. You need… help."

Scarlett winces.

"Scarlett," I try to make my voice gentle. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"If there's nothing wrong with me than why are you insisting that I need help?" She sits up, suddenly completely awake.

I sigh. This just might have to be a fight. "Because you're not _doing_ anything," I tell her simply.

"I'm trying my best," She argues back.

"Well it's not working," I argue back. "I can't… I can't just do nothing watch you go through this anymore. You're not helping yourself, and I don't get it."

"Yeah of course you don't get it." Scarlett rolls her eyes and then steps out of bed.

"Don't do that, Scarlett," I argue, standing up as well. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," She demands.

"Baby, you're not fine," I say as gently as I possibly can. "You're not fine."

"I'm not crazy." Tears condense in the corners of her eyes as she wraps her arms tightly around herself.

"Of course you're not crazy," I moan. "You spent every day of your life for fifteen years getting physically and mentally abused. You're going to have some unresolved issues from that. That doesn't make you crazy, it just makes you human."

"You don't even know what you're talking about," He shoots back, sucking in a quick breath after she does so.

I can tell that she is trying really hard not to try, but I can't stop now, I have let it go on for too long.

"You don't even have to go to talk about what happened to you," I offer. "Just go for the panic attacks."

"Why do you think the panic attacks happen, Paul?" She screams, throwing her arms up. "It's the same thing and I don't want to talk about it!"

"Than what are you going to do?" My voice rises as I let my frustration get the best of me. "Are you just going to have panic attacks every night for the rest of your life?"

"They'll go away!" She screams.

"When?" I demand. "You're safe, living and sleeping with _me_. If they're not gone now they're never going to just leave, Scarlett."

"Fine than I won't sleep with you anymore."

She makes a v-line for the bedroom door and I moan. "Scarlett, get back in here."

"No!"

"Yes!" I yell back. "You can't just run away from all of your problems."

Scarlett flinches and then looks and me, and I mean _really_ looks at me. My face falls when I see the look of utter devastation cover her perfect features. I hurt her, with that.

"You think that that's what I did? When I left them stay with my aunt? You think I was _running away_ from my problems?"

My mouth parts. "Wh- no. No, Scarlett, of course not."

"What you think I should have stayed and dealt with them head-on. Literally?"

"Baby I would never judge you for what you had to do to get out of an abusive situation," I press my hands my chest, being completely honest.

"But that's what you said," She debates, her voice growing louder again.

"No I didn't!" I finally shout.

Scarlett jumps back but then gulps and sticks her chin higher in the air. "Don't yell at me!" She demands, her voice shaky and high.

I think, this might be the first time that Scarlett has ever truly stood up for herself.

"I'm not yelling at you," I soften my voice. "I'm frustrated with you."

"Well I'm frustrated with you!" She argues. "You don't understand, okay?"

"What do you mean I don't understand?" I can't help but laugh. "You have been my _entire_ life since the first day I met you. I am the only person that understands."

Scarlett is biting the inside of her cheeks as her jaw quivers. I just want to reach out and hug her. "Y-you weren't there," She finally answers, her voice heavy with sobs that she is holding back. "You- you don't know."

"I know that," I whisper to her gently. "But that's exactly why I think you need to talk to someone. _You_ are the only person who knows what happened to you. And you're holding it all in and I'm just worried that you're going to..." I let my voice trail off.

"That I'm going to what?" Scarlett takes a step back. "Not be able to handle it and off myself one day?"

I flinch. "Don't say that."

Her mouth drops. "You honestly think that I would do that?"

"You did before!"

Scarlett gasps, and in an instant I realize that I really fucking messed up. Big time.

I take a step forward but she stumbles back, holding her hand out to stop me. "Don't," She speaks finally, tears streaming down her face. "Don't come near me."

"Scarlett," I beg, silently pleading with her. "I didn't mean it like that, baby."

"I told you that, in confidence," She tells me, her tear-filled eyes locked on mine. "Because I trusted you, and I trusted that you wouldn't throw it back in my face. Do you know how hard it was for me to tell you that?"

I open my mouth to speak but suddenly Scarlett's voice is booming, and I mean seriously booming. I have only heard a few people in my life yell this loud, and my innocent little Scarlett has gotten no-where-near close, until right now.

"No, you don't!" She screams, her voice raw and cracking from the sheer force of her words. "I do!" Her voice echoes off of the walls, rough and thick with emotion and all the anger that she has been holding in for so long, that is suddenly flooding out of her. "I lived that nightmare! I did! Not you! I didn't cut myself or hang myself off of the ceiling fan or start doing drugs or run away! I lived through it! And _I was good!_ I did everything that I was supposed to, and I did it _myself!_ Every day was like a fucking marathon of forcing myself to believe that I was actually _worth_ something, but I did it! _I_ did!Who I am right now is who _I_ decided to be. _I_ did that! _Me!_ All me! I decided to be a good person! I chose not to hate the world, and to not hate _me!_ _I did that!_ So shut up, and _leave me alone!_ "

My mouth is hanging open.

Scarlett's lips part and her eyes widen. She gasps and takes a step back. Her hand covers her mouth for a second before she begins stumbling back. She looks fucking terrified.

"No," I step forward, having no idea what the fuck is going on but knowing that I need to act fact. "This is good," I tell her slowly. "Really good. Keep going."  
Scarlett's mouth drops. She gulps loudly and then her lips quiver.

"Say it," I urge her. "Say what you want to say. Say what you need to say, Scarlett."

"I-I," Her voice is cracking and strained from her screaming so loudly, even though she is talking softer now. "I chose to be kind to people, even though no one was ever kind to me," She blinks her eyes rapidly. "And I-I-I didn't deserve it. I didn't do _anything_ to deserve it, and I- I- Why? Why did you do it? Why did you hate me so much? I was three! I was three and I was fucking and wondering why I was so terrible that you hated me _that much_. And w-why did you just expect that I w-wouldn't t-turn you in, because I wanted to," She sucks in her sobs as her tears spill over her eyes and onto her face. "So many times," She gasps. "But I didn't. I didn't because I am _good_. And after e-e-verything that you did to me I _still_ protected you. And I'm angry with myself because _you_ should have protected _me_ and I shouldn't have had to t-teach myself how to be a g-g-ood person. I have always been _good,_ and you hurt me- and I never even hated you for it." She is suddenly sobbing right in front of me, though she isn't talking to me anymore. "And-I-don't-think y-you or-a-anyone u-n-ders-s-s-stands h-h-ow m-m-much I had to do not to hate you and to l-l-like myself e-e-even t-though you h-h-hated me."

Her shoulders slump and she starts really crying, those thick, heavy tears that leave no room for words.

I gulp.

I have never experienced something like that in my entire life. It was like everything that she bottled up and kept in for fifteen fucking years, just exploded out of her.

I take a hesitant step forward, not knowing how to approach her, and when I notice she doesn't panic, I close the rest of the distance to her slowly. Once I am finally in front of her, I place my hand on her shoulder and when she doesn't flinch away, I pull her to me.

Scarlett sobs into my chest, and I wrap my arms protectively around her. I don't try to console her, because I realize now that I _can't_. Scarlett spent her entire life being the strongest person in the world; she was her own mother, her own father, her own _friend_ , and she never even complained about it. She never even spoke her damn mind, and here it all just came out, in a big bang of a moment, and I feel like I just witnessed something monumental.

"Scarlett?" I whisper quietly. She doesn't respond. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but that was actually… good. Like, really therapeutic and shit."

She laughs brokenly against my chest, but in a second is crying again. "M-make me l-laugh again," She hiccups. "A-and t-t-tell me that I d-don't h-have to do this anymore."

I close my eyes. I know exactly what she is talking about: this. _This._ This being the fucking boulder that she carries around with her everywhere that she goes. The boulder that she's had to hold up since she was three fucking years old to keep herself standing.

"Scarlett," I whisper into her hair. "Give me some it, please? Let me shoulder some of the burden. You're the strongest person I've ever met, but at the end of the day you're still a tiny 5 foot 5 blonde." Scarlett laughs. I smile a small, sad victory to myself. "You're _my_ tiny 5 foot 5 blonde. So relieve yourself of some of it; let me have it. I promise, I'll take care of you."

Scarlett's shoulder's shake as she works on controlling her breathing. "Paul?" She whispers, her voice timid and weak. Suddenly she sounds like a little girl again. An instinct in me rushing forward, needing to protect her from the pain of her childhood, but it's too late.

"Yes?" I hug her tighter to my chest.

"I-I want to but," She takes a deep breath. "I don't want to freak you out." A moment of silence passes. "But I might be a tad too late on that front."

I laugh, gently. "You didn't freak me out, Scarlett." I kiss the side of her head. "You've pent up all of your thoughts and feelings inside your own head for fifteen years. It all just came out."

"Do you really mean that, then?" She asks suddenly. "Do you really want to shoulder some of it?"

"Yes," I answer definitively, not a question in my mind.

Scarlett nods softly against my chest.

"Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"I kept journals. And I wrote everything down."

I don't think I remember how to breathe.

I gulp and try to contain the wolf inside of me from erupting at the mere thought of the details written on those pages.

"Do you have them?" I ask softly.

It takes her a while to answer. "I kept them somewhere safe." She pulls away from me and I cock my head at her red, puffy face and swollen eyes.

I brush my thumbs across her cheeks and finally come to a realization. "You kept insurance," I state.

Scarlett nods once. "If he killed me, I wanted everyone to know the truth.

I forget how to swallow for a second. "Where?" I ask, my mouth dry.

Her lips pull up into a sad smile. "You up for a road trip?" The words emit a pained expression across her face.

I am momentarily stunned. "Do you really want to go back there?"

She bites the inside of her cheek and shakes her head. "No."

I nod. "Than tell me where they are. I'll go get them."

Scarlett freezes. For a second I think that she has forgotten how to breathe, but am relieved when she finally takes a breath again. "They're in... my room."

"Your room?" I think back to her room at her Aunt's house and am confused for a moment before- "Oh."

She nods. "Actually," Scarlett takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them it is like I can see renewed strength in the suddenly brighter blue. "I'm going to offer you something. And it's intense. And everything in my head is telling me not to do it, but I'm still going to."

I nod. "I want it."

She smiles. "You don't even know what it is yet."

"Scarlett," I stop her. "If you're head is trying to stop you from doing it than I most definitely want whatever it is."

She bites her lip and then takes a steadying breath. "You want to see into my head, Lahote?" Scarlett sighs as a far-off look takes over her face. "I'll do even better. I am inviting you to live in it."

I shake my head gently at her. "What?"

It takes her a while to respond. "Go to the place that I grew up. Everything that you need to be able to see inside of my head is hidden in a metal safe underneath the floorboards of my bedroom. Read them. You'll see where it happened, imagine it happening too. And it's going to be… terrible. But if you really want to understand, than I'm offering this to you, because I love you." She blinks her eyes tightly together to keep from crying, and all I can do is stare at her.

What Scarlett is offering me is unimaginable. Not only is this probably the hardest thing in the world for her to do, but it is as if she is giving herself _completely_ to me, in a way that I never thought that she would be able to before.

And it will be brutal.

But if I do this, if I go, and I read every last detail and every last thought that Scarlett has ever had about her entire life before me, than I will know her in a way that I never thought I would ever be able to know her. I love Scarlett more than anything in the world, but I never thought that she would be able to give me all of her, and here she is offering it up on a silver platter, and I suddenly realize why she couldn't before.

Scarlett is terrified that it will be too much for me. That I'll say no. That I'll freak out and not be able to handle it, because quite honestly, who the hell is able to handle what Scarlett _lived_ through.

My answer is suddenly very simple.

"I'd leave right now if you weren't crying and I didn't want to hold you."

Scarlett's eyes soften and then her lower lip trembles.

"Come here baby," I pull her to me and hold her tightly.

"I am surprised I still have water left in me," She tries to laugh.

I kiss the side of her head. "Everything's going to be okay, alright?"

She nods her face roughly against my skin.

"And whatever I read, it's just going to make me love you more, not less, you know that, right?"

Scarlett sighs. "Just wait till you read it."

I shiver. "I love you. I _love_ you, do you understand that?"

Scarlett sighs. "Yes, Paul."

"No," I am suddenly serious. "I mean I really, really love you. Not regular love. That's not good enough. Like the fucking Titanic kind."

Scarlett is suddenly laughing again.

"The, die of hypothermia in freezing cold water even though there is room for me on the piece of door you're lying on all because I want it to be spacious for you, kind of love."

Scarlett's chest is shaking she is laughing so hard.

"You know what?" She rests her chin on my chest and then smiles up at me, a _real_ Scarlett smile.

"What?" I grin at her.

"I love you so much that it made me love myself." My entire body aches with love and sadness at that one- Jesus Christ. "So I think I've got you beat."

I roll my eyes and rub my hands up and down her back. "Scarlett," I sigh. "You've got the world beat. You're incredible."

She sighs. "Will you take me to bed? I feel disgusting and sleep is the only thing that will help that."

I lock my arms around her. "Of course. But after I make a few requests."

Scarlett frowns. "Requests?"

I nod my head.

"Paul," She huffs. "I literally just had an emotional breakdown, what more do you want from me tonight?"

I smile. "You need to go to a shrink," I say bluntly, over trying to pretend like it is anything but.

Scarlett's eyes narrow into slits.

"For the panic attacks," I clarify. If you don't want to talk about the other stuff than that is totally your choice. But I'm not letting you have those anymore. You hate them, Scar; I know you do because you told me. And you don't deserve them," I smile and nudge her in my arms. "You said so yourself, remember?"

Scarlett blushes. "I… guess."

"Is that a yes?"

Scarlett struggles for her mouth to form an argument for a moment, before she finally waives the white flag. "Fine, "She sighs.

I raise my eyebrows. "That was easy," I joke.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "Is that all, Lahote?"

"Oh, no," I laugh and rock us back and forth gently. "But this one I don't think you'll hate as much."

Scarlett doesn't appear too convinced. "Try me."

I smile widely. "I want you to learn self-defense."

Scarlett's entire face goes completely still for a moment. "Excuse me?" She finally asks, a nervous laugh springing from her lips.

"While I'm gone," I sigh. "I'm going to have Jacob and Quil and… maybe Embry depending on how much he pisses me off that day teach you," I shiver suddenly. "Definitely not Jared," I imagine him joking around and accidentally punching her in the face, because that is just something that Jared would accidentally do to an abuse victim. "So Jacob and Quil," I shake the thought away. "They're going to teach you how to fight," I smile devilishly at her.

"Ugh," Scarlett suddenly seems nervous. "No thank you. I'm a lover, not a fighter, Pauley." She blinks her eyelashes at me.

"While usually this isn't the case, you being all sexy and batting those eyelashes at me isn't going to get you out of this one."

She sighs. "I don't want to do that, Paul."

"Nessie and Kim can do it with you," I suggest. "Actually, I think Jared has talked about that once before." Actually, I _know_ that he has talked about it once before; ever since she was cornered walking back to her car after meeting for dinner in the city with one of her friends, he has been practically demanding it. "Perfect," I smile at her. "See?"

Scarlett doesn't look convinced. "I don't know if I'm… comfortable with that," She bites the inside of her cheek.

"I'll make sure Jacob is your instructor," I tilt her chin up so that she is forced to meet my eyes with hers. "He's careful. And he won't hurt you. He won't even touch you."

Scarlett ponders this for a moment. "I… well… I,"

"I will stay up all night fighting with you about this," I smile widely at her.

Scarlett moans. "Fine. I just want to go to bed."

I laugh and pull her up into the air. "See! And now that you were an obedient little Scarlett you get the privilege of sleeping in my bed!"

"You are disturbing," She laughs.

"Sexy?"

"Disturbing."

I kiss her forehead and then pull the covers tightly up to her chin. "Oh! I forgot to tell you something!"

"I thought you were tired?" I laugh.

"I am," She yawns rather adorably. If only her eyes weren't still so puffy; it makes me sad, seeing the evidence of her crying. "But the Cullen's forged a few papers and made it look like I got all my classes done." She yawns again.

"What?"

"School," Scarlett laughs. "Remember? That thing that I am supposed to be going to right now?"

"Oh," I scratch my head. With how ridiculously heaven and intense Scarlett's past is, I sometimes forget that she is just a newly 18 year old girl. "Right."

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "Well, Mr. Cullen suggested that since I only have a month left until summer, that I just let him pull a few strings and make some credits appear so that I can walk at graduation but not have to, you know… go back."

I squint my eyes at her. "But didn't you want to play soccer, hun?" I run my finger down the side of her face.

"Fuck that!" She blurts.

"Scarlett!" I laugh in pure shock and surprise. I have never heard her cuss so bluntly before.

She giggles, and I find myself smiling, for I am so happy that she is happy again. "I'm sorry, but there are still rumors that the reason I was in the hospital and out of school for so long was because I was pregnant, so I am seriously content with never stepping foot in a classroom again."

My eyes widen. "Who is saying that?" I suddenly demand.

"Everyone?" Scarlett laughs. "And that's just the newest one. There was one about me being gang-raped, that one was sure a nice one," My mouth drops in horror. "Oh, and then there was one about you catching me cheating on you and, well," She blushes. "Sorry about that one," She rubs my arm sympathetically. I feel nauseous. Does anyone actually think that I would hurt _my_ Scarlett like that? "Oh!" She perks up. "But the best was the one about me being a drug dealer and getting shot for not producing good product." She smiles evilly. "That one made me feel kind of dangerous, and I enjoyed it much more than the fake pregnancy."

I shake my head at her. "Go to bed," I laugh.

"Wait!" She sits up before I have a chance to hit the light off and I suppress a laugh. "I have another question," She blushes now.

"What is it?" I ask, suddenly curious as to what could be making her blush, though with Scarlett there are plenty of options. When it comes to her, just about anything can bring heat to those ridiculously adorable cheeks.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

My mouth drops.

She blushes even harder. "Is that weird?" She stammers. "I- I'm sorry."

"Wh- Scarlett, no. No of course not! I'm just- I'm kind of shocked! I feel like you made a lot of progress… all at once."

She blushes. "Well, this happened before the whole major meltdown screaming thing." Scarlett bites corner of her lip.

"It did?" I raise my eyebrows at her.

"Yeah," She blushes an even deeper shade of crimson. "I was thinking- well, to be totally honest, when I first moved in here I thought it was going to be awful, no offense or anything." I laugh at her; Scarlett is quite funny when she is not trying to be. "I thought we were going to get on each other's nerves and I would be all up in your space and it just wouldn't, like, work, you know?" I shake my head at her. "Anyway," She rolls her eyes and I laugh. "Now that I realize that I like living with you, a lot actually," She smiles guiltily, "And since I know for certain that I am going to be graduating, I thought that maybe we could get a place that's, you know, _ours_. I mean, I like your apartment and all, I really do, and there's nothing wrong with it at all! But I definitly want to go to college, and there are some around here where we could get a place that is close enough to your work and our friends but not too far from-,"

"Sure."

Scarlett's eyes widen. "Sure?"

"Yes," I laugh. "Of course. I would love to get a place with you, Scarlett."

"Really?" She seems shocked.

"Were you expecting me to say no?" I laugh.

"Well, no," Scarlett chuckles. "Actually, I don't know! I just figured it would be more of a discussion."

"Oh you want a discussion?" I tease her. "Alright well how about this." I sit up straighter and clear my throat. "Interesting offer, Scarlett Rhodes," She giggles like a little girl. "But I am worried that some of my demands will be pushed to the wayside."

"What kind of demands?" She asks in that deep, sexy voice that always makes me about two seconds away from ripping her clothes off, and then bites the center of her lip as she cocks her head at me.

I shake my head at her. "Well I just thought of this one, actually: You are never allowed to wear clothes to bed. Ever."

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "You're such a pervert."

I laugh and kiss her quickly. "In all seriousness though," I pretend to sigh sadly and Scarlett leans forward, obviously a little nervous. "I've gotta keep my pool table."

Scarlett scoffs. "Are you kidding? I plan on making that the main focal feature of the entire place. Along with, _oooh,_ I see it now!" She looks up as if she is really imagining something. "A _huge_ banner," She waves her hand in the air for effect. "Keeping a tally of all the times that I have completely _murdered_ you in every game that we play."

I lunge at her and she squeals a I tickle every inch of her perfect, tiny body that I can get my hands on.

"I- am- literally- going- to- pee- my- pants!" Scarlett gasps out between frantic laughs.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me fix that." I flip the covers off of her and then in one swift motion, pull her little pajama bottoms off of her and throw them across the room. "There," I sigh contently. "Problem solved!"

"Paul!" Scarlett goes to complain, but her words quickly morph into laughter as she I begin tickling her again.

Scarlett reaches out, and suddenly I feel her finger poke into my armpit. I gasp and pull away.

"I knew it!" She suddenly screeches. Scarlett literally jumps on top of me and uses all her might to tickle me in the only spot that I am, in fact, ticklish. "I knew you were ticklish somewhere!" She giggles as my hands stop trying to pull her fingers away and instead reach for her waist.

I squeeze, getting a kick out of the fact that Scarlett literally has no pants or underwear on, and is currently straddling my stomach.

"Ah!" Scarlett screams and laughs so loudly I swear at this point between the sex and the screaming and now the tickling, the neighbors must _really_ hate me. She shoves her finger in a spot that literally makes me squeal and her eyes light up.

"What was that?" She bursts out laughing.

"You tickled me!" I defend myself.

"You screamed like a girl!" Scarlett bursts out laughing.

"Oh yeah?" I tickle that particular part of her neck that is so ridiculously and randomly ticklish and if I were human she would honest to God break my fingers when she slams her chin into them.

" _Eeeeee!_ " She squeals. "Not the nook! Please not the nook!"

"Yes the nook!" I laugh flip us over so that I am the one on top.

Scarlett screams as I use one hand to tickle her neck and then the other to tickle her stomach. "Are you tickling back here?" I ask, innocently sliding my hand to the her ass and then pretending to actually try to tickle her.

Scarlett takes her chance by jumping up and managing to successfully tickle me to the point of me actually having to use my strength to toss her over to the other side of the bed.

"Oh!" Scarlett gasps as she falls off the side of the bed.

Oops. I cringe. Perhaps a little too far.

Scarlett manages to catch herself, but then suddenly I am laughing so hard I swear I am crying. Her bare butt and legs are literally the only part of her visible on the bed as she struggles to push herself up.

"Help!" She struggles, but her cries for help only succeed in making me laugh harder.

Finally, she manages to push herself up and then swipes all of the messy blonde hair out of her face as she lunges at me again, this time with a playful growl on her lips; okay Scarlett, chill with the sexiness unless you want this to go from PG-13 to R really damn quick.

I grab her by the ankles and start tickling her feet as she gasps and cries out for me to stop, when suddenly there is a banging on the door.

We both freeze.

Our heads slowly turn towards each other, equally as round and equally as surprised.

"It is _three in the morning!_ Would you _shut up!_ " We hear a high-pitched, female voice ricochet through the front door and all the way upstairs to the bedroom, followed by more pounding.

We are still staring at each other as we burst out laughing, way louder than we were being before.

* * *

Whew, okay! Heavy chapter! I have big plans for Paul's trip to Scarlett's childhood house. I hope you are all ready and it doesn't make you too sad. Please let me know your thoughts!

Review for an update!


	32. Kitten Fight Club

Hi guys! This chapter switches between points of views a lot, so I hope you don't mind! This is how the next few chapters are going to go, because it just works better with Paul and Scarlett being in different states (unless you guys hate it because then I shall re-evaluate). Let me know what you think! xo

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

Scarlett has been exceptionally clingy in the days prior to my departure, not that I am really complaining.

She clings tightly to my chest, hugging me firmly, as I hold my arm protectively around her back, keeping her from getting burnt by the stove as I finish up the rest of the meal for tonight.

"Alright, could you two like step away from each other for two seconds? I would prefer Paul's semen _not_ to be in my steak," Jared says as he exits the room.

I can't help but laugh as Scarlett giggles and pulls away with a blush.

She winds her way around me, but I can tell that she really doesn't want to. I squeeze her butt when no one is looking and she gasps and jumps away from me.

I laugh. "What?"

Scarlett narrows her eyes at me.

"That wasn't me," I feign innocence.

Her eyes widen. "Well I am hoping it was you!"

I burst out laughing.

"Scar! Come here and look at this for your new place!"

I watch as she rolls her adorable and ridiculously blue eyes. "Renesmee, I already told you I am not taking $3,000 from your parents."

"Ugh! You are so annoying!" Nessie pops her head up off of the couch to look at me now. "Does she do this to you, too? She's so stubborn!"

"All the time," I sigh.

"I am right here!" Scarlett proclaims.

I laugh and pull her to me to kiss her forehead. Scarlett smiles and wraps her skinny, little arms around me, resting her head on my chest and taking a long, deep breath.

I smile and rub her back. She doesn't have to say it, but I know that the reason for her over-affection has a lot to do with me leaving her for a week, and even more to do with where I will be going. Every night before bed I reassured her ten times over that whatever I read would only make me love her _more_ , not the latter, but I know that my words did little to calm her nerves.

"We're going to need to fatten you up before we start any kind of training." I turn to see Quil hysterically poking Scarlett's arm that is honestly the size of a toothpick and laugh to myself.

"Hey, Quiley?" Scarlett smiles those puppy dog eyes that bring me to my knees (when we are alone, literally). "Didn't we say we're just going to _pretend_ to train?" She smiles widely.

"Sorry blondie," Quil smiles, "Those eyes, yet beautiful, only work on Paul."

She moans and drops her face into my shirt.

I laugh. "Good try, honey."

She sighs and pulls away from me, leaving her foot wrapped around mine. I make a mental note to remember that it is there so I don't accidentally trip and drop all the food on the ground.

"What about this couch?" Nessie comes into the kitchen holding a computer. Scarlett glances at it briefly.

"It's ugly and totally not my taste."

I burst out laughing. Nessie narrows her eyes at me. I pretend to cough so that she looks away.

"You don't like anything!" She argues.

"I _do_ like stuff," Scarlett giggles. "Just not anything you pick out. It's not my style."

"What _is_ your style exactly?'

"I like… contemporary," Scarlett answers immediately. "Minimalistic with some modern elements. White's, and blacks and neutrals, and a little bit of gold, sometimes, too isn't terrible."

Nessie, Quil and I that are all standing in the kitchen to hear that, all widen our eyes at the same time.

She looks around to each of us, her expression confused. "What?" She finally explodes.

"Nothing," Nessie laughs uneasily. "I just always thought that you were being so difficult because you hated this stuff, not because you were _actually_ picky."

Scarlett blinks at her. "Believe it or not, I like doing this kind of stuff."

We are all silent. Scarlett peers over at me. "I told you that, right?"

I shake my head.

"Oh, well," She shrugs. "I must have forgotten."

"But I've never even see you decorate before," Nessie suddenly blurts, and then she slams her mouth shut.

Scarlett is suddenly blushing so intensely I actually feel bad for her. "Yeah, well," She crosses her arms. "I wasn't allowed to touch anything when I lived with my p-parents and then I moved right into my aunts and I wasn't really welcome to decorate and then here into Paul's, and I'm not about to just start changing all his shit, so." She purses her lip and looks across the room at the game on TV.

Wow, I don't think I have ever witnessed this before, but it is apparent that she is pissed at Nessie.

"Oh, I- I'm sorry," Nessie's face falls.

"It's fine."

"Scarlett!" Claire comes running into the kitchen with a magazine in her hand. "Look! It's you!" She shoves the magazine up at her and Scarlett's mouth drops.

"You think I look like Blake Lively, Claire? God do I love you!" She hugs her tightly and Claire giggles boisterously.

"No," Claire explains. "But you have her hair!"

Scarlett cocks her head and examines the magazine cover. "You think so?"

"Yes!" Claire laughs. "Except yours is blonder! I asked Quil if I could dye my hair your color but he said no."

Scarlett laughs. "Why would you want to dye your hair blonde, Clairey?"

"Because you're pretty!" She grabs the bottom of her shirt and starts swaying side to side.

"No _you're_ pretty, Claire. My hair isn't that great, I promise."

"How?" She doesn't seem at all convinced.

"Well," Scarlett blows some hair out of her eyes. I lean in closer, really needing to hear this. To be honest, I am just as dumbfounded as Claire. "When I go into the sun it turns white."

"White?" Claire exclaims.

"Yes, white!" Scarlett laughs and runs her hand overtop of Claire's head. I smile at the action; I have never seen Scarlett act like that, rather… tender. Motherly, even. It surprises me even more how natural it looks. "See, who the heck wants white hair?"

Claire giggles. "It's better than _boring_ brown."

"Brown is not boring," Scarlett laughs. "Nessie has brown hair! And Nessie's hair is beautiful! Hey, isn't Quil's hair brown too? Don't you like Quil's hair?"

"Well, yeah," Claire sighs. "But Quil isn't pretty."

I laugh.

"You don't think so?" Scarlett asks her, laughing to herself.

"No," Claire giggles. 'He's a _boy_."

"But Paul is a boy!" Scarlett argues. "And I think Paul's pretty."

"What?" Claire looks at me funny. "Paul, you're not pretty!"

"And that's why _you_ are not getting fed tonight, little girl."

Scarlett laughs and pulls Claire into a hug. "How about I braid your hair? I'll make it look great, I promise."

"Really, really?" Claire bounces up and down.

Scarlett laughs. "Yes really!"

She reaches for Scarlett's hand and then I worry she nearly pulled her arm out of its socket as she began dragging her into the living room.

I laugh to myself.

The rest of the night goes by rather smoothly, though a few times when my leaving tomorrow morning was brought up, I swear I saw Scarlett's jaw tremble as she struggled not to cry. Though it is obvious that this was a goodbye gathering for me, what I was actually going to do wasn't brought up, not even one time.

It isn't until everyone leaves, after our shower, and as Scarlett and I are in the bathroom getting ready for bed, when the tears that I knew were coming, finally exploded out of her eyes.

My eyes widen as I set my toothbrush down.

I had literally just said that we are almost out of toothpaste.

"Babe," I can't help but laugh as I pull her to my chest. "It's just toothpaste, honey."

She chuckles through her tears. "Paul, don't go," She finally begs, her voice week and raw.

I sigh into her shoulder. "But you know I have to go," I speak into her skin.

"No," Scarlett argues.

"Yes," I laugh. "Now don't argue with me," I rub the top of her back. "I would prefer not to spend the time before I leave yelling at you."

"You're going to yell at me?" She squeaks.

"No," I laugh. I grab her shoulders and then pull her away from me to kiss her firmly on the forehead. "I was kidding."

"But a week is too long, Paul," Scarlett's eyes are suddenly narrowed.

I grab her around the waist and then hear her squeal as I set her up on the counter. "It's exactly as much time as I need, Scarlett," I reassure her. "What, you don't think you can go a week without sleeping with me?" I raise my eyebrows at her teasingly.

Scarlett rolls her ocean blue eyes. " _I_ will be fine. Will you?" She crosses her arms defiantly overtop of her chest and then narrows her eyes at me.

I raise my eyebrows. "Scarlett," I speak slowly. "You're not worried about _that_ are you?"

"No," She grumbles. "I just find it annoying that you're so willing to leave me for an entire week and you're not even a little bit upset about not being able to have sex with me."

I burst out laughing. "And how exactly did you come to that conclusion, sweetheart?"

"You don't seem too worried about it," She sighs and then lets her head fall against the mirror.

"Babe," I run my hands up and down her thighs. Scarlett tries as hard as she can, but I swear it is impossible for me not to notice the way her jaw tenses. "Just knowing that I won't be able to sleep next to you every night, let _alone_ sleep _with_ you, is fucking killing me."

Scarlett's eyes pick up. "Really?"

"Yes," I laugh. "I love you. And you're really fucking sexy." I cup her cheeks in my hands. "And plus you're beautiful. Even Claire thinks so!"

She giggles.

"There's my girl." I smile and kiss her gently.

Scarlett sighs. "I still think a week is too long," She mutters to herself.

I don't respond, but it is because if I let myself I am sure that I will agree with her. Scarlett and I haven't spent a day without each other ever since her accident, and I can tell that she is scared. I don't want to be away from her either… but I know that I have to do this. In many ways I am sure that it will only make me miss her more.

"Want to watch a movie?" I ask her, trying to keep my voice light. "You can pick whatever you want."

Scarlett huffs. "Fine. Than I want to watch a super fluffy annoyingly, ridiculous romantic movie." She raises her eyebrows at me. "With lots of kissing and terrible acting."

I smile widely. "Sounds great."

Scarlett doesn't seem to like how easily I accepted her offer. "And then I want to watch a horror movie. A really scary one. _Really_ scary."

I chuckle. "That's fine, honey."

"And I want head!" She finally explodes.

My mouth drops as a surprised laugh practically springs from my mouth. "Scarlett," I laugh, not able to control myself. I rub my jaw and shake my head, trying to pull myself together so that she doesn't think that I am making fun of her.

"What?" She challenges.

"Oh babe," I laugh. "I fucking love you, you know that right?"

"Yeah," She rolls her eyes.

"Come here, honey." I slide my hands underneath her thighs and pull them off of the counter.

"Oh." Her eyes widen.

"Oh?" I laugh. I kneel down and wrap my arms around her thighs. I kiss down the insides of her thighs and feel her tighten beneath me.

"I haven't done this for you in a while," I admit. "Are you feeling neglected, baby?"

Scarlett's lip pulls up at the corner, her eyes closed. "Mhm," She breathes.

"Will this make you feel better, Scarlett?" I pull her panties to the side and then brush my lower lip against her clit as her mouth parts.

"Yes," She breathes.

I smile and then turn my full attention to the part of her that is literally aching for me. I kiss her gently before I begin, a soft moan slipping from her perfect, plush lips. I need to make this so pleasing that it lasts her an entire week before I return to give her more.

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I can tell that I am probably being really annoying, but the thing is that I truly can not help it.

Paul is leaving.

He is leaving and it's not for a night or a weekend or a few days; it is for an entire week! And he's not going on vacation, but instead to my own, literal hell that I spent sixteen and a half years of my life in to experience that hell for himself.

Super.

I am pretty positive that keeping him up all night before an early flight is probably really shitty, but I don't care about that either.

"What time is it?" I ask for the fifth time.

"Not time for me to go yet," He kisses my forehead and runs his hot hand along the length of my arm. I sigh and close my eyes. My head is rested against his chest, my leg wrapped around his waist and a movie illuminating the dark room around us, though I have a feeling that neither of us have really watched any of it.

"What hotel room are you staying in again?" I ask though I already know which one.

"The Metro. It's,"

"Twenty minutes away," I finish for him.

He squeezes me tightly and kisses me gently behind the ear.

"It's funny how you never forget anything about the place where you grew up," I sigh.

Paul pushes his tee-shirt, the same one that I have on my body, up and then his fingers graze up and down my spine. "Oh yeah?" He peers down at me. "What do you remember, hm? What are some places that I should check out."

I twist so that I can rest my forearms on his chest and fight a smile. "Really?" I ask tentatively.

Paul looks at me funny. "Of course," He runs his fingers through my hair. "I want to see your childhood, not just the bad things, but the good parts, too."

I can't help but giggle. "Okay, so, you have to go to Ralleys. It's basically this burger place and the fries are way too greasy but they have these really old fashioned hand-made milkshakes in the glasses that they used to use in the fifties. And they're giant, I mean giant!" I laugh just thinking about it. "And so they give you these huge straws and I would go with my friends after sports games or on Friday night and we would put one in the middle and all split it. It'll probably be all kids but you _have_ to go. Oh! Oh and you _need_ to go to the fields on County lane after sunset. There's a water-tower that all the boys used to take the girls up to if they wanted to hook up but I _swear_ it's actually beautiful."

"Hold up," Paul is suddenly laughing. "What is that supposed to mean, _Scarlett_ ," He holds out the word suspiciously. "How would you even know that?"

I blush, despite myself.

Woops.

"Scarlett!" Paul laughs and flips me so that he is holding himself overtop of me. "How would you know that? Did boys take you up there to hookup with you?"

I blush. "I never hooked up with anyone, Paul. You know that."

"Obviously," Paul laughs and kisses my collarbone overtop of my shirt. "But kissed. You had been… kissed before, right Scarlett?"

I blush. "We are _so_ not talking about this."

"Oh you did!" Paul laughs and points an accusatory finger at me. "You definitely got kissed there!"

"Okay, fine!" I blurt. "Fine I got kissed there!"

Paul laughs and kisses my neck gently. "So," He breathes into my skin. "Who's the guy?"

"Paul," I roll my eyes. "No one. They were,"

"They," He lifts his head as his eyes widen me. "There were multiple? Jesus Christ, Scarlett Rhodes!"

I sigh, suddenly realizing that Paul is not about to let this go. "Yes, Lahote. There were two. My first kiss was Freshman year with my best friend and almost as soon as it started we realized it definitely wasn't right and then couldn't look at each other for two weeks after that. And the other kiss was from this kid, Robbie Hayes when I was sophmore." I shake my head. "He was- he- well, I actually liked him. And when he asked me out I was really excited and all that, and when he brought me up there I really believed him when he said that he just wanted to watch the sunset."

Paul stiffens. "Did he hurt you?"

I roll my eyes. "Oh would you shut up! What are you going to do, go beat him up?"

Paul rolls his eyes. "Tell me."

"He kissed me, and then he tried to do more and I pushed him away and flew down the ladder and then my friend beat the shit out of him," I giggle at the memory.

"That's funny," Paul laughs. "I would have liked to have seen that." He laughs. "I'm imaging Nessie beating up a full grown man."

I purse my lips, not having the heart to tell him that my best friend was, in fact, a guy.

"So any other places that don't involve other men kissing my girl?"

I roll my eyes. "I'll let you know if I think of any more while you're there." I can't help but let my face drop, remembering once again that Paul is leaving for seven whole days.

"Babe," Paul strokes the hair off of my neck and kisses me softly.

"Paul?"

"Hm?" He holds himself overtop of me as he runs his soft fingers through the sides of my hair. His eyes are beading into mine, and I suddenly wonder how we look here.

"Are you going to make love to me before you go?"

Paul's face breaks out into a smile. "Yes, baby," He kisses me softly. "Can we go slow tonight?"

I giggle. "Am I really that intense that you have to ask permission to go slow?"

Paul laughs. "Yes," His eyes widen. "At first you were too shy to tell me that you wanted to try new positions, and now every ten seconds it's _deeper_ , _harder_ , _faster_!"

I gasp. "Shut up!" I clasp my hands overtop of his mouth.

Paul laughs beneath my hands and then pulls them away, kissing my fingers as he does so.

"I am terrible!" I laugh nervously as I feel my cheeks heating up. "Do I really say that?"

"Yes," Paul chuckles. "It's okay. It's sexy."

I blush. "Is it not… romantic though?"

"Huh?" Paul bursts out laughing and I roll my eyes.

"Nevermind," I grumble and try to slide out from under him.

"Wait a second," Paul locks me in. "Babe, it's my job to be romantic for you, you're sexy. And beautiful. And sweet. And perfect. You don't need to try to be romantic, okay? You're naturally romantic."

I roll my eyes. "I know Paul. It's just, you're so… sensual. I feel like I'm not like that."

"Scarlett," Paul moans. "Sleeping with you is like sleeping with a God. What's that God of sex again?"

"God of sex?" I blurt. "You mean Aphrodite? The Goddess of love?"

"Yes! That one! It's like sleeping with her every time I have sex! It's un-human!"

I burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Paul," I try to control myself.

He giggles. "See! It's just, _you_. You come from such a natural, honest place. You're not trying, and _that's_ sensual, Scarlett."

I smile. "You're sweet, Lahote. A little too sweet for my liking but I'll let it slide."

He chuckles and pulls my hips underneath of him. "Are you wet, baby?"

I giggle, my cheeks reddening from the sudden change in subject. "No."

"No?" Paul smiles. I feel his finger press inside of me and then gasp when he presses it in fully. He smiles knowingly as he curves his finger and does this particular thing that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head and my back arch. He is hitting that one spot that sends me through the roof.

"Are you wet now?" He asks gently as he pulls his finger out of me, a slight laugh in his voice.

I would roll my eyes if I had control over them. "Yes," I moan.

I hear the dresser drawer open and then open my eyes. "Paul," I complain once I see him tearing open the corner of a condom wrapper.

"Babe," Paul smiles down at me. "We have to."

"We never do," I remind him.

"That's because we get caught in the moment and forget," He laughs. "Now be quiet and let me take care of you."

I sigh. "Fine but I don't wan- ohhhhh."

"You don't want what?" Paul teases me, holding himself idle inside of me. I feel him pulsing around me and I try to tighten as much as I can, wanting to just _feel_ him as much as possible.

"Mmm," I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his jaw.

Paul moves in and then out, almost painfully slow, and I literally ache for him. I just want him to pound into me, to hit those spots that make my knees weak and sounds that I didn't even know I could make being forced out of my mouth and experience true and pure bliss. I want that moment of euphoria when my body can't remember any other feeling other than Paul being fully inside of me.

"Paul," I complain, pressing my hips into him.

"I said slow, Scarlett," Paul laughs and grips my hips to pull them down and hold me to the mattress.

Completely frustrated, I wrap my leg around his and then somehow manage to flip us, though I am guessing it is due to sheer willpower, so that I am on top.

"You want to go slow?" I purr, my hair covering half of my face and my neck tilted back and teeth biting my lip and entire being swelling with pleasure as I move myself on top of him.

"Oh, baby," Paul mumbles. I swear I can feel him get harder inside of me. He latches his arms around my back and pulls me down to him. "You're fucking sexy," He tells me simply. "Now kiss me."

I bite the center of my lip and kiss him deeply, my breathing choppy and untamed. I go to pull away but Paul presses his hand to the back of my hand and deepens the kiss. I melt into him, a victim to Paul and those lips.

And suddenly, I love it.

Paul and I are animals at each other's mouths, sucking and kissing and licking and each trying to kiss the other _deeper_. We are so lost in our kisses that I forget how badly I want to go hard and let our bodies naturally move with each other. He twists back on top of me as I bury my hands in his hair. And then a second later I am being pulled into his lap. And then after that I am back on top as he presses my chest to his and grasps hand-fulls of my hair.

Paul grips my hips and then suddenly presses himself deeply inside of me.

I gasp into Paul's mouth.

I push myself back on top and bounce myself quickly on top of him, throwing my face up towards the ceiling and closing my eyes.

This, now _this_ is heaven.

"Shit." I hear Paul moan and then look down to see his face caught in a state of tensed euphoria.

I smile down at him, loving the way that I can make Paul feel that good; that I can bring Paul to his peak.

He opens his eyes and I smile down at him. "Did you cum?" I ask, and then blush mercilessly.

Paul smiles at me and then uses my hips to pull me off of him. He lifts me with his bare hands and then pulls me up to his face.

"Oh!" I gasp, sincerely uncomfortable. Paul wraps his arms around my thighs, resting his hands on my butt, and then pulls me down. My eyes pop as soon as I feel his tongue touch the part of me that is already so sensitive.

He sucks on me and I nearly fall over, somehow managing to keep myself in the air.

Paul does something spectacular with his tongue that I honestly can't explain, and then I am pushed completely over the edge. My body rocks as he holds me up, my thighs shaking and quivering, though I forget to worry about squishing his face or about how this looks with his eyes staring up at me or about the sounds that I am making and… _ohhh_ it feels so good.

I go limp and then Paul places his hands on my back and lowers me back down onto the mattress. I moan and crawl into his awaiting arms, breathing so fast and heavy that I should be embarrassed, but am just not able to find any emotion other than bliss.

"Jesus, Scarlett," Paul takes a deep breath. "How the fuck am I supposed to leave now?"

I giggle. "That was my plan," I get out between breaths.

" _Fuck!_ " Paul suddenly screams.

"Paul!" I laugh.

" _Fuck!"_ He screams again. "Do it," He nudges my shoulder. "Just scream it."

"No," I giggle. "I don't cuss, Lahote."

"I have heard you cuss before, Scarlett," He rolls his eyes at me.

"That's only when you make me really mad, _Lahote_."

Paul laughs. "Ugh, you're fucking unreal," He moans to himself.

I giggle. "Be quiet or the neighbors are going to seriously get you kicked out of here."

"That's fine," Paul wraps his arms around my back. "That would just mean that we would have to find our own place sooner. And you could decorate it exactly how you wanted. What did you say earlier? Minimal and modern?"

I roll my eyes. "You're making fun of me."

"I am not!" Paul actually looks hurt. "Not at all. I want you to make it exactly how you want it. It'll be _ours,_ Scarlett, and you are included in that. Got it?"

I go to respond, but the sound of Paul's alarm clock interrupts me. My eyes immediately find his, as both of our faces fall at the same time. Paul gulps and then reaches for his phone to turn it off.

He pulls me tight to his chest and kisses my forehead. "It's seven days, Scarlett. We can do this."

I sigh. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

Paul laughs gently against me. "Both."

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

The drive to the airport is one of the saddest drives of my life. I realize that we are being extremely dramatic about this whole situation, but I seriously haven't been away from her for longer than a few hours in months. I'm really going to fucking miss her.

I keep her talking the entire time, laughing too, because if not I am sure that Scarlett would be crying. It isn't until I pull up to the airport drop-off area and switch the car into park that I actually see tears condense in her eyes.

"Alright," I smile and pat her thigh. "Come on. Get out."

She nods sadly and reaches for the door handle, as I step out of the car on the driver's side. I grab my bag from the trunk as Scarlett waits by her door, sadly staring down at her feet as she twiddles with them on the ground.

"Come here," I laugh gently as I pull her into my arms and feel her fall into me. I sigh into her hair and hold her tightly. "Everything's going to be fine," I reassure her. She nods roughly into my chest. "A week will fly by before you know it."

"No it won't," She argues, her voice muffled.

"Shhh," I squeeze her. "Come on," I try to make my voice light, though it is extremely hard to leave her when she is this sad. I shake her shoulders and she finally pulls away, but just a little bit. She leans her face up and I kiss her immediately. I go to pull away but she presses herself closer to me. I actually let myself get lost in her for a second before I begrudgingly pull away.

"I've got to go," I tell her gently.

"Mmm, one more," She juts her lower lip and grasps my collar tightly in her fist.

I moan. Fine. God. Does she really think I could ever say no to her when she does hot shit like that? I kiss her deeply and then pull away, reaching for my suitcase.

"I'll text you before I take off," I smile a small smile at her.

"Wait! Wait! One more," She pleads. "One more."

I shake my head and then walk back to give her one last kiss.

When I pull away this time I know that I really need to leave.

"Call me when you land!" She bites her nail nervously. "Oh! And before you take off, too!"

"I will," I walk backwards into the airport. "I love you!"

"I love you too!" She jumps up to call after me.

Someone beeps behind her but she ignores it. "Love you!" She calls again.

I laugh. "I love you, Scarlett!"

"Love you too!"

Another beep.

"I'm going! Okay! I'm going! Jesus Christ!" I laugh as her voice fades away when the doors close behind me.

As promised, before I take off I text Scarlett a super embarrassing text with a lot of heart emoji's that I would never fucking admit to sending in the future if anyone besides her ever saw it, but she seemed to like it.

 _LOOOOVEEEE YOU!_ She had sent back, making me laugh and calming my nerves at the same time; at least she isn't sobbing, begging me to come back.

"Flight attendants prepare for takeoff."

I shut my phone off and then sit back in my seat and close my eyes. I might as well sleep on this six hour flight to Boston, Massachusetts, considering I didn't get any last night.

When the plane _finally_ lands and I get my rental car, I realize that Massachusetts is surprisingly beautiful. It isn't at all what I was expecting, but once I veer from the city towards the hotel, I begin to connect what Scarlett has said about where she grew up with actually seeing it.

I tried to call her on my way to the hotel, but she didn't answer. We didn't go to bed last night, so she is probably still sleeping, which actually makes me feel really reassured. One of my main areas of worry was her sleeping alone. Scarlett has been having a panic attack a night for a few weeks now, and the thought of her waking up alone and having to deal with them, make my stomach hurt.

Flashes of Embry comforting her after her panic attack the night before her birthday flash into my mind. What makes me incredibly angry and jealous also gives me an odd sense of comfort. I think even Embry thought I had lost my mind when I asked him to phase and keep watch outside of Scarlett's house just in case she needed him in the middle of the night. To be honest, I have no idea what the fuck I was thinking with that, but I trust Scarlett, even if I don't necessarily understand what it is between the two of them.

I drop my bags off at the hotel, a quant but nice hotel that Scarlett told me to stay in, and then get right back into the car to do a drive-by. I'm gross. I need a shower. I need to eat and rest and make a plan and _then_ do what I came here to do. But I have to see. I _have to see it._

I have imagined what Scarlett's childhood house looked like since the second she told me about her abuse. I just couldn't stop thinking, which house was it that Scarlett got beaten in. What did it look like? What was her room like? What did the kitchen table look like? Did it stand out? Or was it just a regular house? _Where did it happen?_

It takes twenty minutes to get to Scarlett's house from the airport, and I find myself actually having anxiety as I search for her house number along the sea of houses, my mind going absolutely insane at this point. I come to one with perfect, shining letters screaming 4562, and slam on my breaks so hard I nearly break the break petal.

It has a white picket fence.

I mean, the house _literally_ has a white picket fence. With grey shutters and colorful flowers all over a perfectly landscaped front yard and an American flag hanging beside the front door. The paint on the siding is such a fresh shade of white that I wonder if they got it painted recently.

I frown.

This is too perfect; it puts me on edge.

From the little, and I mean _little_ that Scarlett has told me about her mother, I do know that she was extremely into keeping up appearances. I am not quite sure how much she knew about Scarlett's abuse, but I can imagine, since it happened so frequently and started at such a young age, that she knew just about everything. I swallow down bile and close my eyes for a moment to calm down.

I open them just in time to see the front door open. My mouth drops. Thankfully, I am still far enough away from the house, parked on the side of the road, that this woman doesn't see me. This-this-this _Scarlett._ It's _Scarlett._ Scarlett's mom looks almost identical to her, only an older version.

She has the same hair, only hers is cut shorter, just beneath her shoulders, and is expertly curled and smoothed and styled. She is wearing a tight skirt that comes up high and then lands at her knees, and then one of those flowy blouses that remind me of a woman working in New York, and a pair of heels too.

She gets into her car, a slick black thing parked in the middle of her driveway, and then immediately pulls down the mirror to check her appearance. I watch in shock as she applies red lipstick, and think back to the times when Scarlett has ever gotten dressed up for me… she has always worn red lipstick.

I think I just might be sick.

She backs out, and then to my horror turns so that she is coming down my side of the road. I pretend to be searching my car for something as she passes, but look up just in time to see a flash of familiar blue eyes as she drives away from me.

I contemplate breaking in now; just walking up to the front door, breaking the lock and then going in. Now more than ever I need to see what is behind that door, but I know that I need to play this exactly how I planned, or someone would see me. The plan is to _not_ get caught; I don't want anyone coming to look for Scarlett.

I haven't even been into her house yet, but I already feel like I learned more than I have in all the months of being with her. What I just saw with her own mother, makes my heart hurt for her. She let her daughter, her daughter that was almost an exact clone of her, be hurt every single day, and then fuck the guy who did it at night. And then Scarlett had to watch as that same woman got up every morning, made herself look perfectly presentable, and then went off to work like everything was perfect.

For the first time ever, I suddenly understand, just a little bit, why it may have been so hard for Scarlett to tell me the truth.

When she spent fifteen years pretending like everything was perfect, I can imagine that she would even start to believe it.

My entire drive back to the hotel is spent wondering who Scarlett's mother is. Why did I not know a thing about her? She is biologically related to Scarlett, yet I know less about her than I know about her step-dad. Who is she? What is she like? Why did she let this happen? Did she _want_ it to happen?

When I am finally back in my room, I can't take it anymore.

I call Scarlett and gasp in a huge breath of relief when she answers.

"Hello?" She mumbles across the line, her voice hoarse and crackling at the edges.

"Are you sleeping?" I ask gently.

"Mmm," She moans.

Fucking relief. "I just wanted to say that I landed. And that I love you. I really, really fucking love you. Okay? And- and when I always say that you're perfect. I don't actually mean that I want you to be perfect. I just mean that exactly how you are, is perfect to _me_."

Silence hangs between us.

I rub my eyes. Damn it, Paul. I haven't even started reading anything, and yet I am already completely fucking falling apart. What is wrong with me?

"You saw her, didn't you?" She asks, her voice oddly neutral.

My mouth parts. I'm not sure what to say to that, or how she even figured it out in the first place.

"Creepy, isn't it?" She asks, her voice suddenly clear.

I take a deep breath and then close my eyes. "Did you sleep through the night?" I ask her.

"You mean through the day?" She teases.

I finally smile. "Yes."

"Yeah," Scarlett yawns. "No attacks for me!"

I chuckle sadly to myself. "Go back to sleep, okay?"

"Are you at the hotel?" She asks, ignoring me.

"In my room now."

"That's nice," She breathes.

"I'm going to shower," I tell her.

"Me too."

"Oh?"

Scarlett laughs, her voice carrying to me from so many states away. "You better get used to showering alone for the next week, Lahote."

I sigh. "I think that might be the trickiest part."

I hear her gasp. "That? No way! Who the heck is going to shampoo my hair?"

I laugh. "Preferably no one, but,"

I can practically hear the eye roll in her voice. "I don't know. I could see if Seth wanted to fulfill your role while you're away."

I growl. I can't help myself.

"Relax," Scarlett giggles. "I'm kidding, Pauley."

"I know," I sigh.

"I'm going to go back to sleep," She finally mumbles, a yawn accompanying her words.

"Alright. Don't forget to eat tonight, alright?"

She giggles. "You worried?"

"Yes! I went grocery shopping before I left and put leftovers in the fridge."

"You're such a woman," Scarlett chuckles.

"And _you_ don't eat unless someone cooks for you."

She laughs but doesn't argue, though I am guessing that is because I am telling the truth. I truly believe Scarlett lived off of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and ice cream Sunday's at her Aunt's before I came along.

"I'll eat. I promise."

"Good. Goodnight, Scar. Sleep well, okay?"

"Yes, Lahote," She breaths across the line.

I hang up before I can get too depressed thinking about her sleeping without me.

After a nice, hot shower, a nap, and some fresh clothes, I am practically shaking from what I am about to do. It isn't exactly like I am nervous, it's just one of those moment when you know you're about to do something that you're not going to like; it's kind of like that, only my problem isn't that I don't want to read her journals, I'm terrified of what is inside of them.

I drive to the small, playground parking lot that Scarlett told me about. It has an entrance leading right into the woods, isn't too far from her house for me, and no one ever goes there, so it should be a great place to park my car.

I wrap my clothes loosely around both of my ankles and quickly phase; the last thing I want to happen is to get caught naked at a playground.

I run to Scarlett's house, the entire time giving myself an extremely thorough pep-talk/convincing not to lose my cool. The funny thing is that I actually used to have a temper before Scarlett. I used to freak out and yell and throw things and break doors, yet when I met Scarlett, I _couldn't_ do that. When we first met she was so scared of everything. She was like a baby puppy; she ran at loud noises. I am not sure when it happened, but one day I just realized that my angry streak just kind of… stopped. Here, though, I am frightened at what I might do; at who I might become again, once I read and see what happened to her.

Once I am in her backyard, I quickly phase back and then put my clothes on, and only then do I emerge from the woods and stealthily rush to the backdoor. As promised, there is a key under the third rock I try. The fact that they had ever even locked their doors makes me laugh in a terribly ironic sort of way; the people that hurt Scarlett lived inside these doors, not out.

I step inside and then quickly close the door behind me, not wanting any of the neighbors to see me and alert the cops. Though technically I'm not breaking in since Scarlett gave me permission, it was a silent agreement between Scarlett and I that I would keep my presence here low-key. Her only direct request was that I didn't speak to her mother… ever. And honestly, I worried that I might kill the lady. Now that I have seen her, though, I know that I never could. Even though she is _nothing_ like her, she looks too much like Scarlett. I could never have the same eyes as Scarlett's looking into mine with any type of fear; I couldn't do it.

I turn around and take in my surrounds. _This_ , I think, _this is where Scarlett grew up._ The back door leads into the kitchen. There is a long, thick wood table right in front of me, with a chandelier above. There are fresh flowers in a vase in the middle of the table, and each seat has a setting. In front of the table are two large windows with perfectly applied curtains.

 _This was Scarlett's hell._

I slowly walk into the kitchen, paying attention to the way that my body sounds moving around this house; it's a weird thought, but I need to know it. The kitchen is so clean it looks like no one has eaten here in a year and a cleaning crew scrubs the countertops with a toothbrush. There are decorative rags neatly displayed on the oven, and a big frame on the wall that says, "Food is love."

I almost vomit.

My eyes catch on the knife holder sitting perfectly straight right next to the sink, and I stare at it for a moment longer before I walk out into the hallway. The hallway with the front door is decorated much like the kitchen: neat and put together but not too overdone. There is a framed picture of Scarlett's family on the wall right in front of me. Scarlett looks to be about six. She has a smile on her face, but I know my Scarlett, and it is nothing like the smiles she uses when she is with me. Her stepfathers' hand is on her shoulder, and I can see the way that her collarbone is tensed, and her shoulders are rigid. It makes my hands ball up into fists at my sides. Scarlett's mom looks as put-together and made up as she did in the driveway on her way to work earlier, and it makes me want to slap her.

I cover up her parents and then look back at her. I have never seen a baby picture of Scarlett, and although she isn't exactly a baby here, she is entirely adorable. Her cheeks are rosy and full, and her mouth is wide yet much smaller. Her eyes are huge though, just like they are now, and I am literally able to see how long her eyelashes are just from the picture. Her hair. God, her hair. It's white; and when I say white, I mean _literally_ , white. All those times that I had claimed her hair turned white from the sun is nothing compared to this picture. The white strands are blowing in the wind, fanned out to the side of her face in whispy ringlets. She has half of her hair pulled up into a pony tail and the other half down.

I smile at the picture and then turn away.

There is a living room, dining room and bathroom that is pretty much identical to the rest of the first floor; very neat, very tidy, very… _perfect_. I shiver at the thought. When I get to where I know the master bedroom is, I stop myself before I have a chance to enter.

If one thing is for certain, I know that Scarlett would never have come into a mile radius of this room unless she was forced. I turn away quickly and shake away the thoughts; I have no desire to see that room, so unless it's in the journals, I will be staying out.

I find the stairs in the hallway in front of the door, and then ascend them slowly. There are pictures and quotes lining the wall going up. A couple are Scarlett's school pictures, and she looks much more relaxed in those. In the first one she looks just about the same age as she was in the family picture downstairs, but in the second one, she must be about thirteen years old. I stop and stare at the picture for a moment, trying to imagine what she was like back then.

She is beautiful, but not sexy, yet. She is cute, but too old to be "little-girl, cute." I wonder what it would have been like to be there for her like Quil is for Claire; how I would have handled her growing and changing. I wonder what she was like then.

There is a picture of Scarlett and her parents on their wedding day. She is about two years old, but she looks entirely happy- she had no clue. I take a steadying breath and continue, trying not to read any of the quotes, but not being able to help myself.

 _"_ _Good Bless this house,"_ and, _"Family: where life begins and love never ends_ ," stares me right in the face in thick, black lettering. Are these people fucking kidding me?

The upstairs is small, with only two, tightly closed doors, one on either side of the hallway. I take a deep breath when I realize that Scarlett really didn't have anywhere to hide here.

When I open the door on the right, I only wonder if it is Scarlett's room for about two seconds before I realize that this couldn't possibly be it. It has a framed picture of a landscape and a perfectly made up bed with floral sheets and a dresser. How neat and tidy everything is here, it only adds to the creepiness. One would truly never imagine anything bad happening here.

When I turn the handle on Scarlett's bedroom door, I try to imagine her doing the same exact thing, trying to picture it in my mind. I push the door open and then can't help a wide, honest smile from filling my face.

This is _her._

I step into the room and do a full turn to see every inch of the room. Though the furniture and the way everything is sitting is much like the rest of the house, everything else has Scarlett's stamp on it. Her comforter is all white, and unlike the guest room with about 800 overdramatic and unnecessary pillows, Scarlett just has two, the pillowcase and the sheets underneath white with small black pinstripes. Her walls are a faded light pink, which doesn't go with the rest of the room, but I can imagine she didn't have much of a say in that. What I am really captivated with, though, are her _things_. Unlike the rest of the rooms, this one looks _lived_ in. There are pictures and schoolbooks and real books and clothes and little knick-knacks that are neat and tidy, but actually out and displayed.

There is one pair of jeans lying on the floor crumpled by her bed. I smile and pick the pair up, turning them the right way out and then laughing at how tiny they are before I toss them on a chair across the room; the same one with a thick, fuzzy white blanket lying messily in the middle of it.

I seriously don't think anyone came in this room once after Scarlett left…

I walk over to her dresser that has a huge mirror above it and stare at all the pictures, not framed, but in case stuck between the small seam created by the separation from the mirror and the border. There are a few pictures with her and her teammates: in one they are all holding up a #1 and Scarlett is holding a tall, elaborate trophy in her hands, looking absolutely, unbelievably adorable in her soccer uniform; in the next she is in her volleyball uniform, though her and four other girls are standing with their backs to the camera, all looking over their shoulders like they are doing something very wrong as they each make a funny face at the camera. My eyes immediately go to Scarlett's ass in the tight spandex, and then after a while of admiring, I lift them to her face, which is ridiculously sexy, especially when she was just trying to be funny. Her long, blonde hair is in a high, curly ponytail, her thick hair landing at her waist, as her hand is covering her mouth and her eyes are wide.

I reach for the picture and fold it so that she is the only one that I can see (she makes the other girls look like paper bags anyways), and then stick it in my back pocket. Not sure if I am allowed to steal things from her room, but I definitely want this one. The last sports picture consists of her in her cheerleading uniform, being held up in the air like they do, with one knee bent and her arms up. Her face has a blue devil on it and there is a giant blue bow in her hair; she is holding hands with the girl next to her, who is looking over at her in the midst of a laugh. I reach for that one and yet again fold it so that she is the only one I can see.

Okay. I want this one too.

The other pictures are all with her friends. Some are selfies, others are at specific places; I see a theme of a particular restaurant and quickly realize that this is the diner that she told me about. In almost all of them she looks like she just left a game or just played in one. It isn't until I find a picture with a giant, old fashioned milkshake, with three wide straws sticking out of it in the middle of the table, with Scarlett and two other girls laughing into the camera, though, that I know for sure.

There is one thing that I notice though.

There are a lot of guys.

 _A lot_ of guys.

Way more guys than there are girls.

In fact, out of the countless pictures littering every inch of this mirror, there are only two pictures, not including team pictures, that have other girls in them. The others, are all of Scarlett with different guys. Now, I know Scarlett, and I know that she wasn't like the kinds of girls that I have known, that are only "friends with guys" which basically means that they were easy. It just seems like Scarlett truly was better friends with boys.

In one picture she is sitting with two guys in a booth at that diner. Her head is rested on one of the guys shoulder's as she sticks her tongue out and crosses her eyes. He is laughing at something the guy on the other side of her said, and that guy is using her hair as a mustache. In another she is standing up in her cheerleading uniform, some guy hugging her from behind as they both smile widely. The next she is sitting on some guys lap on a fold up chair outside. She has his face in her hands as she pretends to kiss his cheek.

You know what…

I squint my eyes at the pictures and suddenly realize something. Almost all of the pictures that include guys, include one in particular. He is tall and toned (not exactly lanky but not muscular either) and has curly blonde hair that is shorter on the sides and a little longer in the front. He has blue eyes just like her, but obviously no where near as beautiful.

"Hm," I say to myself as I finally force myself to stop getting jealous of boys that I never even met and she never even dated and look at some other things.

She has perfume bottles and body sprays littered in a neat yet messy line on her dresser. When I pick them up, each of them faintly remind me of her, which makes me smile and miss her just a little bit more. I can't help myself from opening her drawers and pulling out some of her clothes. Scarlett has always been a mystery to me, even now, and knowing what she wore in high school is something that seriously intrigues me.

I open the top drawer, which just so happens to be her underwear drawer, and only allow myself a quick peak of the lace and multicolored fabrics before I close it and tell myself to stop being a creep.

I strum my fingers along the books stacked around her entire room. It's funny, because I've heard her mention how much she enjoys reading, but I haven't seen her do that much of it. I guess if she needed an outlet, reading was the way to go. When I open up one of her notebooks, I see her neat yet messy handwriting covering the pages of her history notes with some doodles on the sides of flowers and in one case, a dinosaur, which I have to admit makes me laugh.

I look in her bathroom, next. The drawers are messy, and filled with scattered hair bows, hair ties, a little bit of makeup, some different kinds of cosmetics, and some other odds and ends. Her shower holds some body wash and some shampoo and conditioner; it makes me smile thinking about me shampooing her hair. Ugh, Scarlett's hair.

She has the best everything… but especially the best hair.

Finally, I go to her bed, right in front of a large window with white curtains and lie down on top of it. I push myself under the covers and then moan when it smells so much like her. I pull out my phone and snap a picture.

 _In some girl's bed… jealous?_

Scarlett's response is almost instantaneous. It is a picture of her, almost _identical_ to mine.

 _In some guy's bed… jealous?_

I laugh. I can't believe she is still in bed.

 _Very ;)_

She doesn't reply, but I think that has more to do with the humor settling and her realizing that I am in her room, which means that I am about to start what I came down here to do.

I lift myself up and then stand up, pressing my wait into the floorboards, looking for it. I walk around doing this very thing, covering every inch of the room, until I find the spot that I am looking for. When I press my weight into the rug covering the floor on the other side of her bed, I hear a creak. I rock my weight back and forth until I hear the same sound; that is when I know that I have found it. I get down on my hands and knees and throw the rug up and over. I squint my eyes and lower my gaze to the ground; there is one floorboard that is just a tiny bit more raised than the others. I try to lift it with my fingers a few times, before I realize that I don't have skinny fingers like Scarlett, and that just isn't going to work. I grab a pair of scissors out of her desk drawer and easily lift it, setting both the scissors and the wood board on the ground. I look down into the hole, and can barely make out what I need.

I pull the other floorboard that are now loosened out so that I can lift the box onto the floor. It is a metal box. I gulp. Scarlett literally kept this in a metal box, probably in case the fuck ever tried to burn the house down. I pull the cap off and then my eyes meet about ten thick, black and brown leather journals.

My heart sinks.

I pick one up and open it to the first page.

 _10_ is written in thick, black sharpie.

I pick up another.

 _14_

And then another

 _12_

I gulp and search through all of them until I find the youngest age, which is nine.

I stand up, and turn to the next page.

 _September 21_ _st_ _, 2008._

My stomach drops; that is Scarlett's birthday. There is a list at the top of the page. At first I am confused, but once I quickly flip through the other pages, I realize that this type of list is on every single page. It is a tally of every injury that occurred to her on that day. I have to close my eyes and take a deep breath.

 _2 slaps_

 _1 knee in stomach_

 _8 cuts_

 _Explanation: Today is my 9_ _th_ _birthday. My fault for thinking it would be any different really. I decided today that I will write everything down. If dad kills me then I at least want people to know what he did. I got up today, brushed my teeth and combed my hair just how mom likes,_

I stand and walk into her bathroom, mirroring her movements.

 _I walked downstairs into the kitchen,_

I slowly walk down her steps.

 _And he hit me. I'm not sure what I did to deserve that one, but dad hit me. I started to cry so he hit me again, and then when I went to go back upstairs he kneed me in the stomach so hard I couldn't breathe._

I stare at the kitchen table, a scene coming right before my very eyes.

 _Mom didn't do anything again. Dad said that I couldn't leave yet because it is my birthday and then he said he had to give me my birthday present and then took me into mom and dad's bathroom,_

I go into the master suite and then stand in the bathroom. I quickly take in every aspect of the room before I continue reading.

 _He made me stare in the mirror at myself while he cut me nine times right between my shoulder blades. I'm not sure why he did that, but I guess now every time that I look in the mirror I'll remember it happening. Happy birthday to me!_

The entry ends after that.

I stand, devastated, as I stare into the mirror in front of me, trying to imagine nine year old Scarlett looking back, being cut for just being alive.

This is going to be the most heartbreaking week of my life.

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Scarlett, you have to block the hits," Jacob explains for the tenth time. At this point, I have basically become a gawking matter for Jacob, Embry, Jared, Claire, Nessie and Kim, who are all watching me from the sidelines.

"Come on," Quil says, his eyes widening though his voice remains quiet. He is trying to get me to react without having to actually scold me in front of everyone.

"I'm trying," I mumble.

Quil uses his boxing glove to nudge me in the side. I move away only after I've been touched.

"Dude!" Jared finally shouts, completely exasperated at this point, "Just block his hand! He's not even actually hitting you! He's like tapping you!"

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Arms up," Scarlett," Quil nudges my arms.

I moan and pick them back up. He gently hits my shoulder, and then I wince and jump back.

"Are you trying to be terrible at this?" Nessie calls.

"Shut up!" I call out to her. For the first day of what Jared has decided to call "Kitten Fight Club," Jacob turned his garage into what is practically a mini boxing ring. The learning had been fine, fun even, but it wasn't until the actual practice began that the real problems arose.

At first everyone was supper supportive and understanding, which is why they gave me as much time as I needed, but it has gotten to the point to where even I am frustrated with myself.

I don't know what it is, but I can't bring myself to defend against a punch. Not even once.

"Okay," Quil sighs. "I'm going to hit you on the right side of your body," He says slowly. I nod my head. "On three, defend it. Just put your arm up, okay?" I nod again. "One. Two. Three!" He raises his hand and I freeze and wince my eyes closed.

Everyone moans.

"I am so done with this." I angrily turn away from him but Quil reaches for my wrist. "Scar, come on. Guys, go away!"

They sigh, but eventually disperse. Quil smiles warmly as he raises his hands again. "Ready?"

I sigh and nod my head.

Though I really do feel bad about it, it was discovered pretty early on that I took best to Quil's gentle style of teaching, especially compared to Jared's, who accidentally almost nailed me in the face. In fact, if it wasn't for Jacob's quick reflexes, I think I would have been left with a black eye. So, to sum it up, Quil is my teacher, while little Claire had to be taught by Embry. I had to give it to Embry though, he was rather good with her.

Quil begins again, tapping me with his boxing glove, hoping that I will make any move to block it, to no avail.

It takes about ten minutes of failed attempts, before Embry has had enough.

"Alright!" He yells, dropping what he is working on with Claire and stepping onto the raised matt that Jacob had set up. "This is ridiculous. Quil, go teach Claire."

My eyes widen.

"Ugh," Quil clears his throat once he sees my expression. "I really don't think that's the best idea."

"Get out," He tells him sternly.

"What are you doing?" I question slowly.

"Let me ask you something," He begins, and I suddenly realize something: Embry is mad at me. Like seriously, completely and totally angry with me. "Do you have something permanently wired in your brain that is set on self-destruct?"

My mouth drops. "Huh?"

"Are you seriously that idiotic or are you just trying to be cute?"

"What?" I gasp.

He rolls his eyes. "Hands up. And I'm not playing with you like Quil was. I'm actually going to hit you, so you better defend yourself."

My mouth drops. "What? I-,"

Embry's boxing glove connects with the side of my face and I suddenly go down. I hear hushed gasps from around the room… and then silence.

Wow.

I hadn't been expecting that to bring back such powerful reactions. My entire body is tensed; I am ready for more. I am remembering all the times before when I was lying on the floor like this. My body is going into protection mode; protect the organs, protect the face.

"Get up," Embry says, but his voice is gentler this time.

I take a deep breath and then push myself to a standing. "What the hell was that?" I ask, rubbing my cheek. Embry definitely didn't put any real force behind that hit, and the boxing glove was soft and padded, but it still was a punch.

In a flash of a second, he hits me again, in the shoulder this time.

"Embry!" I bark, my body tensing up like a Q-tip. I hold my arms tightly to my sides and take a deep breath.

"Defend yourself!" He yells at me.

"I'm trying!" I scream back.

"Well try harder!" He yells.

He hits me on the other side of the face. I wince and stumble back.

"Embry!" Jacob's voice is loud and booming. It makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

"Fight back!" Embry barks. "You can't just let someone hit you!" He hits me again, in the stomach this time. I suck in a gasp as my hands form into fists at my sides. I close my eyes tightly together.

"Open your eyes," He instructs. "Think. Defend the next one."

I open my eyes just before he hits my on the cheek again. I go down with a thud.

"Defend yourself!" He orders.

"That's enough! Fuck!" Jacob orders as he walks towards him.

I stand, weak and shaky.

"God Scarlett," Embry is seething, "Fight back! Why won't you fight back?"

Before Jacob has a chance to grab him, Embry raises his gloved hand.

I am not even sure what the heck happens next. All I know is that one minute I am standing with my arms locked tightly at my sides thinking _don't fight back- it'll only make it worse,_ over and over and over again, and then the next, I punch him in the jaw.

There is a chorus of gasps as Embry's head snaps back.

I take a quick inhale of breath as I pull my hand back, cradling it in my other hand as I stare down at it, open-mouthed as it aches with pain, but a new kind of pain.

When I finally look back up at Embry, he is actually smiling.

I turn on my heel, slightly panicked and entirely angry, and walk the hell out of there.

It isn't until I get back to Paul's apartment, that I finally feel the gravity of everything that had happened. Only, I'm not sure if I am _ready_ to feel it. I haven't fought back from a punch or a kick or a fist or a slap or an _anything_ , in so long, and I finally did. I never even imagined hitting back, but I _had_ hit back. Even when _he_ had beaten me nearly to death in my aunt's house, I still hadn't really fought back. I had kept myself alive, but I hadn't fought back, not until the very end when I had to, to survive.

I angrily throw my clothes off and ignore my aching hand as I step into the shower. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the cool tiles on the wall, wishing that Paul was here. Paul would have _never_ let that happen. Paul would have worked with me for ten hours straight, slowly coaxing the fight out of me, and then would have barrel hugged me and kissed me and told me how proud he was of me once I finally did. But Embry isn't Paul.

I am mad at him. So, so, so, so mad at him that I could scream, cry and attack him all at the same time.

I moan and lift my face into the hot water.

I stay in there until the water turns ice cold, only slightly feeling bad for Paul's future water bill. Once I get out, I quickly change into a tee-shirt that _smacks_ me in the face with Paul's incredible smell and then go downstairs to get something to eat.

As soon as I begin heating up some of the leftovers Paul had made me, I hear a knock at the door.

I realize that it is insane when my first thought is that _he_ is here. _He is dead,_ I tell myself, _duh._ I should have asked Paul about zombies and the likelihood that those exist along with vampires and werewolfs, I think.

I open the front door as my eyes immediately connect with an all too familiar face, and a very unfamiliar sorry smile.

I slam it right in Embry Call's face.

"Scarlett!" He bangs on the door. "Scarlett I'm sorry okay? I'm really, really sorry!"

"Go away Embry!" I yell at the door, my arms crossed tightly overtop of my chest as I take a step back.

"Look, I was just trying to get you to defend yourself, alright? I got pissed off and acted like an idiot."

"Yeah you did! You jerk!"

"Please let me in," He pleads.

"Go away!"

"Scarlett! Everyone else may be cool with letting you continue to be a victim but I'm not having it anymore! I needed to make you help yourself!"

I charge for the door, suddenly furious. This is exactly what Paul had said when it came to therapy. Who the hell are these boys, and who are they to tell me that I need to help myself?

I pull the door open as Embry jumps back in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was surviving fifteen years of severe physical abuse not good enough?" I yell at him.

Embry rolls his eyes. "Stop being dramatic, princess."

"Don't call me that!" I scream, my voice high and echoey.

"Chill," He looks me dead in the eye. "I came to apologize, alright?"

I narrow my eyes at him as fire is practically coming out of my ears. "Well you're doing a pretty shitty job at it."

Embry rolls his eyes again. I think about hitting him just one more time. "You were blocking punches with your face. What was I supposed to do? Just let that go on?"

"I was trying my best!" I hit my foot into the ground in frustration.

Embry's lip pulls up at the corner. "Did you just stomp your foot?"

I moan and stomp back into the kitchen. Embry follows in after me and closes the door behind him.

"That wasn't cool Embry!" I yell from the kitchen.

"Look, I know you're pissed but-,"

"No." I turn on my heel and match my gaze with his. "No you don't. How could you do that to me? How could you hit me like that? And in front of everyone! Do you know how embarrassing that was?"

"No one's making fun of you," His eyes widen, like that is the craziest idea in the world.

"I was trying, okay?" I yell. "I spent 15 years of my life basically training myself not to even react to a hit because then I would get it worse! It is like wired in my brain not to hit back. Of course it was going to take me some time!"

"You're right," Embry smiles hopefully. "I just accelerated the process."

I moan and then turn away from him. "You're an asshole, Embry."

I hear him sigh. "Yeah, I know."

I turn slowly. "You do?"

"Yeah," Embry shrugs. "I couldn't watch that anymore. It pissed me off, and I knew that you might hate me for going at you so brutally, but I had to do it. I'm sorry, but I'm really not. I'll be the bad guy if you need me to be; if that means you won't be someone's punching bag anymore, that's fine by me."

I gulp and cross my arms loosely. I want to hate him and scream at him and tell him to get out, but I just can't.

No, Embry isn't like Paul. But I'm not in love with Embry. Embry is my best friend, and in a weird way, I think he kind of proved it today.

I clear my throat and take a deep breath. "Chinese?"

He smiles widely. "Only if you have fortune cookies."

I roll my eyes as I fix us each a plate. "You're still an asshole," I begin, "And an idiot. And stupid."

"Fine, fine, and fine," He sighs. "How's the hand."

"Fine," I brush off his question.

"Seriously? Are you made of fucking steel?"

I hand him a plate and then level my eyes with his. "I have a high pain tolerance."

He gulps.

I roll my eyes. "Eat your food and shut up."

Embry takes a seat at the island and I slide in next to him.

"Talked to Paul today?" He asks with his mouth full.

"A little," My voice naturally gets quieter, softer even. "I talked to him early this morning for a little and then he texted me once."

Embry nods. "You gunna tell him?"

I sigh, immediately understanding what he is referring to. "Probably, Embry. I mean, if I don't Jake probably will. He seemed pretty upset."

"They all were," Embry widens his eyes at me. "After you left Nessie Cullen almost killed me- literally! Look!" He holds out his arm and I gasp.

"Is that a… bite mark?"

"Yes!" He exclaims. "Lucky that thing isn't poisonous like the rest of her family!"

I roll my eyes. "Well good, she should have."

"And that's not even counting what Jared, Quil and Jacob all did to me. I think my jaw broke and re-healed so many times my face looks different."

I shake my head at him. "You look fine to me."

"Oh, you mean I look _fine_ ," He bats his eyelashes at me.

"Oh shut up," I roll my eyes. "You realize Paul's probably going to kill you for this."

"I am counting my blessings as we speak."

I sigh. "Good. Can you clean up the kitchen for me? I just want to go to bed."

"Sure," Embry's face softens. "Hey, princess. I really am sorry, alright? I know that was probably fucking awful for you. And I'm sorry."

I stand and smile as I tuck my arms around myself. "You don't know how terrible it was," His face falls. "But thanks anyways. I get why you did it." I twiddle my toes on the floor. "I need to re-teach myself certain… habits."

Embry stands up quickly and then pushes me to his chest. I let myself fall into him and press my face tightly into his shirt. It is comforting in a way I can't quite explain… but it isn't Paul.

Hugging Embry is like hugging your best friend after you and your boyfriend just had a fight; what you really want is your boyfriend to comfort you and apologize, but there is something indescribably incredible about that best friend's embrace.

"I'm sorry," He tells me earnestly. "Really. I think you're incredible, and I respect you a lot. I didn't mean to make you feel differently."

I sigh and pull away from him, putting some distance between us.

"I don't feel differently," I tell him. "That was just… hard for me. I need to get some sleep."

"Alright," Embry runs his fingers through his hair. "Well, I'll finish the dishes and then get out of here. I'm going to be running patrol around here tonight, though. So, if you get- well, I mean, you don't have to be scared or anything." He clears his throat and I smile, warmly.

"What do I have to be scared of now that I know how to throw a punch?" I joke.

Embry's eyes widen. "Oh, princess, that back there wasn't a punch."

'What?"

He shakes his head. "That- I'm not sure what that was. I'll teach you how to punch next time."

I roll my eyes. "Get out of my house, Embry."

"Isn't this Paul's house? And I'm pretty sure it's an apartment, not an actual home."

I shove his shoulder as I head upstairs; I can still hear him laughing as I close the door behind me.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me. I am currently lying on top of the comforter in my hotel room. I have been staring at the same spot on the wall for what must have been an entire hour at this point. I can't stop thinking about everything that I read today. I shook to the core with her words, and her anger, and her _life_ that I am not sure if I am thinking clearly.

I only read about fifteen entries from her first journal that she wrote when she was nine years old. I know that tomorrow I need to get through a lot more, but I just couldn't stomach it today. There is one entry in particular that I have gone over so many times in my mind, I swear I have it memorized.

 _October 8_ _th_ _, 2008,_

 _3 gut punches_

 _5-6 stomach/back/thigh kicks_

 _Explanation: Walked into the door after a soccer game. Threw me to the ground at soon as I walked through the door. No reason._

None, I keep thinking. No reason _._ There was literally no fucking _reason_ for it. And I'm not saying that there was any real reasons for any of the ones before, but to read the word, "none," it just hurt me in a way that broke me a little bit.

I suddenly remember that my phone had buzzed and pull it out of my pocket. A new text from Scarlett. I gulp and open it. _How is your stay at Hotel-ah-la-depression?_

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. _This_ is my Scarlett. She is happy and healthy and _mine_ , and no one is _ever_ going to hurt her again.

 _Cloudly_ , I reply.

 _Are you alone?_

I am suddenly intrigued.

 _Maybe_

 _Are you alone now?_

I am confused for a second before a picture suddenly pops up on my phone. My mouth drops. I think I have a mild heart attack. Scarlett has just sent me a picture. A sexy, sexy, _sexy_ picture of her, lying in bed without any clothes on. I hold the phone close to my face and examine every square inch of her. She has the blanket tucked overtop of her so that I can just see the sides of her breasts, and then her hip is wrapped around the blanket, her smooth, tan, irresistible bare leg is resting overtop of the comforter, practically glowing and begging me to reach through the phone and touch it.

 _I'm still not sure…_

I wait a while, wondering if I took this too far and slightly nervous that she got embarrassed or annoyed. This is the first time that Scarlett has ever done something so… brash. This is the first time that she has done anything like this _at all_.

I am literally moving my fingers to the keyboard to let her know that I am only kidding, when another text comes in.

This time, I actually do moan. Scarlett actually shows herself to me this time, and her face is in the picture too, which makes it all the better. She took the picture from above her, and her round, perfect, _huge_ tits are fucking staring right at me, and I can't look away. Her tiny waist is slightly twisted, and then she has her thigh up, covering the lower half of her that I wish to see equally as bad, as she poses sensually for me with half of her blonde hair covering her perfect face.

I am calling her in a second flat.

"Hello?" She answers the phone, her voice slightly higher than usual.

"Scarlett," I moan.

She giggles. "Did you like them?" She actually sounds nervous.

"Oh Scarlett," I moan again. I try to say something else, but all that comes out is another moan. " _Scarlett_."

"Lahote, what if you send me naked pictures and then asked me how I liked them and I continued to say your name oddly for the next ten minutes and not answer your question? How would that make you feel?"

I can't help but laugh. "Ugh, you're so sexy though," I tell her.

I hear her giggle. "Thanks Paul," She sighs. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," I close my eyes and force my hormones back. "How was your day today?"

She moans.

My body tenses. "Bad?"

"Have you talked to Jake?" She asks after a moment.

"No," I respond slowly. "What happened?"

"Nothing," She sighs.

"Scarlett," I speak sternly. "Tell me what happened right now."

"I don't want to," She whimpers. "Can't you just ask Jake? He as there so I am sure he would explain it better, and plus everything is fine now!"

"What do you mean he was there?" I rub my forehead.

"It has something to do with kitten fight club," She admits.

"Kitten fight club?"

"Self-defense," Scarlett sighs. "Kitten fight club is what Jared named it.

"Did something happen?" My bones tense as I imagine the worst. "Did someone hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Paul," Scarlett giggles. "Really. It wasn't a big deal. I don't want to talk about it, okay? I miss you and I want to talk about you."

I sigh. "Fine," I finally give in. "But once I get a full report from Jacob we _are_ having a discussion."

"Yeah, yeah," Scarlett replies quickly. "Did you masturbate in my bed or what?"

I gasp. "Scarlett!" I laugh. She giggles and I try to picture in my head how ridiculous of a blush she has. "No! Did you in _mine_?"

"No!" Scarlett gasps. "But I wish you were here. I… need you."

My eyes widen immediately. "Are you horny, baby girl?" I whisper through the line.

She just barely gasps. "No!"

I laugh. "Yes you are," I sigh. "You wouldn't have sent me those dirty pictures if you weren't."

I don't have to be with her to know that she just rolled her eyes. "What are _you_ doing?" she asks, her voice dropping to that lower, sensual tone that makes my head spin.

I am so fucking enamored and obsessed with this girl, she has no idea. "Lying on my bed," I tell her. "What are you wearing?"

It takes her a moment to respond. "Nothing," She speaks cautiously. "I'm… thinking about you."

I can't help but smile wondering how red her cheeks are right now. "Oh yeah? Thinking about me doing what to you, baby? What do you want me to do?"

Scarlett laughs, uneasily. "Paul."

"Do you want to have phone sex with me, Scarlett Rhodes?" My lips pull up into a knowing grin.

"Wh-what?" She stammers. "No!"

"But you said you need me!" I laugh. "Don't you want to?"

Her silence is enough to answer my question. "You don't have to be nervous," I tell her gently. "I'll talk. You just touch, okay?"

I hear a small giggle and smile to myself.

"Is the light on?"

"Y-yes," She answers after a brief pause.

"Turn it off," I tell her.

I hear a click. "It's off."

"Good," I smile to myself. "Now lay down in bed. I'm going to talk you through this, baby girl."

She doesn't respond.

"Are you lying down?" I ask gently.

"Yes," She whispers back.

"Promise you'll do exactly as I say?" I ask her, expecting her to say no to me because I know that she is way too stubborn and embarrassed to ever actually agree to that.

"I promise," She whispers back.

My entire body freezes.

Fuck.

I lie down against the mattress and try my best to make this perfect.

I speak gently to her, telling her exactly what I want her to do and exactly how I want her to do it and how I want her to touch herself; I know that I need to be clear, this is the first time that Scarlett has ever done this.

"Don't be quiet, baby," I tell her, my eyes closed, imagining that I was there with her as I picture her in my imagination doing all the things that I just told her to. "I want to hear you, okay?"

"Okay," She breathes.

"Touch yourself like I told you to," I tell her softly.

It happens slowly, but I hear Scarlett's breath go from slight elevated to fast to intense. She moans into the phone.

"Oh, baby girl," I can't help but reach for myself. "Yes, just like that baby."

She whimpers and I press a pillow tightly overtop of my lap to keep from fucking masturbating to the sound of Scarlett touching herself- this is about her, not me.

"How does it feel?" I ask her softly.

"Weird," She admits.

"It sounds like you like it," I smile.

"I do like it," She giggles. "But it still, like, _I_ feel weird."

"I love how you feel," I whisper to her.

She moans again and I close my eyes.

"Are you wet, baby?"

"Mhmm," She breathes heavily.

"Can you feel it?" I push.

"Yes," Scarlett moans.

"Oh, baby."

It takes her quite a while, much longer than I would have liked, actually, but eventually she gets there. I literally breathe in the sounds of her having an orgasm; Scarlett orgasming is unlike anything else. It is something that is so unexplainable, I truly had no idea something that sexy could ever happen.

"How do you feel?" I ask her gently.

Scarlett breathes heavily.

"Do you feel good?" I push.

"Yes," Scarlett sighs.

I hear her let out a long deep breath and then smile to myself. "Are you ready for bed now?"

"Mhm," She whispers into the line.

"I wish I could kiss you goodnight," I tell her quietly.

Scarlett sighs. "You just did," She murmurs.

I laugh.

Oh how I love corrupting Scarlett Rhodes.

* * *

And that's a wrap! Sorry for the long update time; hopefully the fact that this chapter is super long makes up for it!

PS: please let me know if you hate the switching between points of views constantly. Thanks!


	33. Little Rhodes

Hello all! Thanks for all the amazing reviews and welcome to the new followers:) I hope you love this chapter! I have to admit I am getting a little antsy not writing Paul and Scarlett together, but I'm using the time to dive into other relationships that I think are important. Hope you like it!

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I call Jake just about as soon as I wake up in the morning.

"Hey Paul," He answers casually. "How's Boston?"

"Chilly. What happened the other day?"

He sighs. "I was wondering when you were going to call. Did Scarlett call?"

"Jake!" I hear a high-pitched whine in the background.

"I know, I know; give me two seconds," He whispers back.

"Ugh," My eyes widen. "Are you and little Cullen about to get it on? Because if so I will be happy to call back later."

"Shut the fuck up," He sighs. I cringe, not able to stop thinking about it; Jake, unlike many of the wolves, is by far the best at keeping his thoughts to himself. He has only ever slipped up one time that I can think of, and that wasn't even sex. "Did Scarlett tell you?"

"She told me to talk to you."

He moans. "Of course she would make me tell you this; it's a very Scarlett thing to do."

I roll my eyes. "Would you just tell me?"

"Ugh, alright, well," He clears his throat. "There was sort of an… incident."

"An incident? What kind of incident?"

"We were trying to teach Scarlett some defense moves and she just wasn't… responding. Embry got a little heated."

"What the fuck did he do?" I am suddenly growling into the phone, squeezing it so tightly I have to remind myself not to break it.

His tone becomes steady and even, like he is speaking about a business matter now. "Quil was working with her and Embry got upset because she was using her body to block hits. He came onto the matt and took over. He put her on the ground a few times. I broke in to stop him but she punched him in the jaw."

My mouth drops.

My first feeling is anger, fresh and hot and pure, but then after a moment I am truly shocked, and then after that I am kind of proud. "She hit him?" My voice peaks with interest at the end.

"Yes," Jacob sighs. "And it was a pretty solid punch, too."

"Well, good. Good for her. But how the fuck did you let that happen in the first place? I trusted you with this, Jake."

"I know. It was- it happened so fast and I _did_ tell him to stop. When he didn't I stepped in. I was about to but she fought back on her own."

I moan. "What a fuck. Is she okay?"

"I mean, I know it's not what you want to hear. But it kind of… worked."

"Great, yeah! I mean the girl got PTSD after fifteen years of getting the shit beat out of her but at least she punched back, right?"

He sighs. "He was punished properly."

"If he doesn't have a broken jaw than I don't think it was proper enough."

"I think it did break a few times," He says. "I don't know, Ness. What do you think? Do you think it broke a few times?"

"At least three," I faintly hear her reply.

Jacob chuckles. "Ness bit him."

My voice falters. "She… bit him?"

"Yep," Jacob laughs. "Really, really irrational and idiotic, but I mean we already knew that she wasn't poisonous from that time she bit me when she was ten, so don't worry. No werewolf, vampire hybrids."

"Oo, you want poison?" I just barely hear her purr in the background.

"Alright," I almost gag. "I'm going to go. Ugh, just, could you make sure nothing like that happens again while I'm gone? I mean, fuck, dude, it's already hard enough reading about the horror story that was her childhood."

I hear a squeal and then hit end before he even has a chance to respond.

In an instant I am calling Scarlett.

"Lahote," She answers happily.

I look at the clock. "You're up early."

There is a brief pause. "It's 11:30."

"Like I said. You're up early."

She chuckles. "What do you want, boy?"

"Talked to Jake."

"Oh," She sighs. "So that's the reason for you being so short with me."

"I am not being short with you," I sigh.

"You're not being friendly either."

I moan and then sit down on the edge of the bed. I run my hand overtop of my face and then let out a long sigh. "How are you? Are you okay? Honestly, Scar."

"I'm fine," She answers easily.

"Scarlett," I begin to complain.

"No, really. I'm fine. Embry came over and apologized after. And while I do admit that his methods weren't the… gentlest," I cringe. "I get why he did it. I mean, I hit back."

"He shouldn't have hit you at all," I state.

"I agree."

"You do?"

"Are you surprised?"

"Well… yeah. When do you ever agree with me?"

"Oh please," She giggles; the sound is relaxed and breathy. It makes my shoulders slump and my heart rate relax. "Now you're just being dramatic."

"Oh _I'm_ the dramatic one in the relationship?" I laugh.

"Yes," She giggles. "I'm a good girl."

"Oo, baby," I smile and take a deep breath. "You can't talk to me like that. Too sexy."

She giggles. "You know what, I really like you."

"That's reassuring," I grin. She is obviously not lying when she tells me that she is entirely fine.

"No really! You just always say I'm sexy. And I like it. Yeah, you know what, I am sexy!"

I burst out laughing. "See, I told you!"

"Have you gotten breakfast yet?" She asks.

"You mean lunch?" I laugh.

"Yes," She giggles.

"Nope. I'm about to head out."

"I've got a place I want you to go," She states.

"You do?"

"Yes. It's called Mimi's Café. You need to go and ask for Mimi. Tell her that Scarlett sent you! Oh, and if Alex is there, say hi!"

I laugh. "Alright, hang on. I quickly start a new note on my phone and write down the names. "Who's Mimi and who's Alex."

"Mimi is my old boss and Alex is the best friend."

"Oh, cool! The best friend who beat up the water-tower fuck?"

Scarlett laughs easily. "Yes, that best friend."

"I have _got_ to meet this chick."

"Ugh, yeah, about that," She begins, her voice uneasy.

"Don't worry," I sigh. "I won't say anything about what happened or why I'm here. Alright?"

"Okay," She answers after a moment.

"What are you doing today?"

"I am _not_ going to kitten fight club."

I laugh. "I can understand that. I'll teach you when I get back."

"That kind of turns me on, Lahote."

"I am glad to hear that, Rhodes."

"I am going to miss you a lot today, I can tell."

I sigh. "Yeah, honey?"

"Yeah," Her voice suddenly sounds sad. "Can't I just come down there and stay in the hotel all day? I won't even speak unless I want sex."

My laughter is impossible to contain. "As endearing as that sounds, truly, I am going to have to say no."

"Of course," She grumbles.

"Why don't you go out with Nessie today," I suggest.

"I was thinking about seeing if your mother wanted to hangout with me."

"Really?" I perk up. I never thought that I would enjoy my girlfriend having a good relationship with my mother as much as I do, but then Scarlett happened. Scarlett never even had a mom, and my mom is one of the best, so I want her to be her mom too. "What are you guys going to do?"

"Maybe she'll teach me how to cook," Scarlett giggles.

"Ugh, how much time does she have?"

"Shut up!" She exclaims.

I giggle. "I'm kidding, baby. I don't mind doing the cooking in the relationship."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I smile. "Plus you're always cleaning my shit up. It's the least I can do."

I hear Scarlett chuckle. "My mother was always really picky about everything being neat and perfect. It's just like engrained in my body to be clean."

"See," I speak, gentler this time. I want to keep the tone light but I also can't help but remember some of her journal entries. "You keep the house clean and I'll cook."

"Hm. Not sure if I like being domesticated like this, Lahote."

I chuckle. "As long as you continue to sleep with me, you don't have to do _anything_ around the house. Seriously, I'll get a maid."

"You're not getting a maid," She laughs. "I'll keep having sex with you as long as you maintain your status as the sweetest guy ever."

"Hard standing to live up to," I joke.

"Not for you," Scarlett sighs. "Talk to me all day, okay? Don't go to my house."

"I have to, sweetheart," I whisper to her.

"I know," She just barely whispers back. "But I really don't want you to."

"I know," I repeat her exact words. "I know."

After I get off the phone with her I decide to go to her house and go to the diner Scarlett told me about for dinner, instead. I only have from 9-5, when Scarlett's mom is at work, to read through her journals. Having been tired from my travels, and slightly emotionally drained from what I read yesterday, I slept until 11, and didn't get to her house until noon. Once I am inside, though, I get the same icy chill that spreads throughout my veins at the sight of the eerily perfect house.

I have to lie in Scarlett's bed for a while to relax before I begin. I take a deep breath and open it to where I finished, still in her first journal.

I read through a good amount before I find one that truly irks me to the core.

 _December 24_ _th_ _, 2008._

 _20-30 slaps/punches (face/upper body)_

 _Explanation: Christmas Eve. The holidays are the best but the worst at the same time. For one, I know that throughout the day he won't hurt me. I actually get to pretend to have a normal family, and in public mom and dad actually pretend that they like me, that they're proud of me even. But I hate it. I hate watching them lie to everyone. I hate having to pretend like what they are saying is true. I hate when he hugs me in front of people and they smile and don't notice me tense up. I hate him touching me. I hate how mom suddenly has an interest in me just because she is talking to her church friends, when I know that she couldn't care less. And most of all, I hate that I know that this will all end. And after it ends, it will be terrible. Because there is nothing that dad hates more than spending a day pretending like he doesn't hate me._

 _It happened almost as soon as we got home. I didn't even make it inside. I stepped out of the car and then he punched me right in the face. (Another terrible thing about the holidays: school break. Aka after the public celebrations are over, a time when he can hit me wherever he wants, including my face, because no one will see it. When he hit me the first time I fell against the side of the car. Mom didn't even look back as she walked inside, carrying in left-overs from church. He didn't even let me stand up before he hit me again. This kept happening. He would slap me or punch me and would grab me and pull me up to hit me again before I could even get back up._

I can't handle it anymore. Staring at an empty garage, imaging him hitting her over and over and over again, makes my stomach ache. I puke in the garbage can, and make a mental note to take it out before I leave.

It isn't until one specific entry, though, that my mouth drops and a puzzle piece clicks right into place. I hadn't been expecting to read this, not at all.

 _March 9_ _th_ _, 2009._

 _1 punch (face)_

 _1 gut punch_

 _Hair pulling_

 _6 cigarette burns_

 _I was three minutes late for curfew today. Dean couldn't figure out why I was so freaked out about being late. He kept trying to make me laugh and talk about Sally Linkum who he is currently hooking up with and get my opinion, but I couldn't speak. Dad doesn't need anything to hurt me, so when he actually has a reason, it is terrible. The one good part about getting hurt for no reason is that he really doesn't say much. He just hits. When I do something wrong though, that's when he yells. He called me a whore and accused me of sleeping around, and then he said that he was going to beat the slut out of me. He was sitting at the table when I came home late, waiting for me. He had a cigarette in his mouth, and I just couldn't stop staring at it when I walked in. I knew what was coming. He stood up and I tensed every muscle in my body, which made it a little better when he nailed me in the eye. While I was trying to pick myself up he sit me in the stomach, and then when I was bending over trying to breathe again he pulls me by my hair across the room and then threw me against the cabinets. He ripped my shirt off (my favorite shirt, by the way) and then burned me 6 times. I was only supposed to have five, but it hurt so bad that I screamed, and so I got one more._

I take a seat at the kitchen table and put the book down, rubbing my eyes to try to rub out the images. Fuck. Fuck.

 _Fuck._

It is only 3:32 when I finish her journal from when she was nine, and of course, the last entry is one that ruins me.

 _September 20_ _th_ _, 2009._

 _40-50 rib/abdomen kicks._

 _Explanation: I have never been in so much pain in my entire life. Dad has hurt me in every way that he possibly can, yet today I truly can say that I have never been in so much pain ever before. He broke at least four of my ribs, I am sure of it. I can't breathe without crying. I feel like I can't breathe correctly, and all this time I am panicking because I know that he likes to go after previous injuries for maximum pain. I can't handle it. If he touches my back or my chest or my stomach I will die. I will die._

 _I have never thought about doing what I did with the pills again since it happened. Dad had been so angry I thought for a second he maybe cared about me. I think I realize now that he just always wanted to have someone to beat up. I am thinking about it now, though._ _I didn't take enough last time_ _._ _If I took more or if I did it a different way it would_ _No. No. I would never do that. I would never do that. He just can't touch me. I need to go. I could go stay at Alex's for the weekend. It would piss dad off so much, and I would get it bad when I got back, but it would at least give me some time to heal. I could tell Alex that I am sick. And plus it's my birthday weekend so I am sure Alex would drop plans to hangout with me and take care of me. Yes. Yes I'll do that. How do I begin to move or get up though? It would be best if I leave now, before he gets back from the police station._

 _Oh, right, I almost forgot. He barged into my room because I didn't "clean up after myself" which I don't understand because I didn't even leave my room all morning, and threw me on the ground and then started kicking. The rest is history._

I chuck the book across her bedroom, and then I start to cry.

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"But how do you know when it's done?" I look into the pan.

"Just pull a piece out and try it!" She exclaims happily.

I blink. "But how do you know when it's done?"

Mrs. Lahote rolls her eyes. "It's really not that hard, honey. I think you're overanalyzing it."

"You really should have started me off with something easier," I scratch my head.

"It's spaghetti with meat-sauce," Mrs. Lahote says.

"Difficult," I huff.

"You're doing great!" She smiles false reassurance at me as she rubs my back.

"What about the temperature."

"The temperature?" She repeats.

"Yes. How did you know to put the stove at H and then move it down to five. I mean, why not movie it down to eight? Or seven? Or six? Or four?"

Mrs. Lahote laughs and then shakes her head. "For pasta always bring it to a boil on hot and then once you put the pasta in bring it down to five and cook it for about 8-10 minutes. If you really want to check it you could throw it against the kitchen cabinets. If it sticks it's done."

"Really?" My mouth drops.

"Yes," She laughs, "Try it!"

I am suddenly excited. Cooking has always seemed like such a boring, strenuous task to me. Plus, I'm just not naturally good at it, and there's no fun in doing something that you're terrible at. Now, though, I have a reason to be just a little bit enthusiastic.

I scoop a piece out and then drop it on the counter with a gasp when it burns my fingers. I pick it up again once it has cooled off and throw it at the cabinets across the room. To my surprise, it sticks right to the wood.

"Oh my Gosh!" I giggle. "Can I do it again?"

Mrs. Lahote shakes her head at me. "Go for it, honey."

I throw two more pieces before I realize that I must look like a seven year old and take the pasta off the stone to strain it. It is while I am at the kitchen sink, shaking the water out of the noodles, that my phone rings.

"Oh, it's your son!" I say once I look over at caller ID.

"How wonderful!" Mrs. Lahote smiles brightly. I love seeing how excited she gets whenever Paul's name is brought up; it's how a mother should be towards her child. "Tell him I say hello! And that he hasn't called me since he has been away and I've been worried."

"Okay," I chuckle to myself as I answer. "Hi babe. Guess who I'm with right now."

"Scarlett?"

I drop the strainer into the sink and then stare, wide eyes and mouth parted, at my reflection in the window. I have never, ever heard Paul sound like this before. His voice was heavy and shaky and my name cracked at the end.

"Paul?" I ask gently, quickly walking out of Mrs. Lahote's kitchen, through the hallway and into his bedroom. I crack the door behind me. "What's wrong?"

"I- I'm sorry, Scar," He cries, though I can actually hear him now. He is sobbing, though I hear him trying to suck in quick breaths so that he will stop.

"Don't be sorry," I whisper back. "What happened?"

"I- I can't believe this happened to you," He sobs.

Every muscle and joint and piece of my body falls, even my face. I slump to his bed and then lie down on top of it.

"Paul," I sigh gently. "It's okay. _I'm_ okay."

"I should have been there," He moans, crying softly after he spoke.

"How?" I push, my voice still soft. "You lived in Washington, I lived in Massachusetts. There was no way you could have ever even known, Paul."

"But I- I- I shouldn't have- it never should have happened," He sobs.

"Paul," I coax gently. "I know. But it _did_ happen. And I'm okay. Really, I am. And I have you now, and you're incredible. So incredible that it's kind of like something terrible had to happen to me to even out my luck."

"Not funny," He moans.

I sigh. "I know, babe."

"Ugh, fuck. Fuck! _Fuck!_ " His voice is so loud that I flinch. I close my eyes and take a deep breath; the last person on this earth that I am afraid of is my Paul. "I shouldn't be calling you with this. I should be there for _you_. You're the one who lived through this shit."

"What do you mean you shouldn't be calling me?" My voice is teasing. "Do you have another blonde that you call whenever you're upset?"

He laughs. It is half-hazard at best, and it isn't a real Paul laugh, but it'll do for now. "No, Scarlett," I hear him take a deep breath.

"Well than I think you should definitely be calling me," I try my best to make my voice sound cheerful.

"Yeah but still. I'm supposed to be the one that you call when you're crying."

"I'm sorry, but I live in a world in which the guys are not always coming to the girl's rescue. I can save you a few times too, you know. Now I'm not a relationship expert by _any means_ , but isn't that kind of the whole point?"

He chuckles. "You're smart, little girl."

I giggle. "Wait, I thought I was sexy! Now I'm a little girl? Confused."

"Shut up," He mumbles, finally sounding like himself again.

I giggle. "You okay now?"

"Fine," He sighs.

"Now, if the roles were reversed you would accuse me of saying fine but not really meaning it. Would you like me to do that a few times or should I trust you?"

I hear him laugh. "You can trust me. I'm really sorry, baby girl. This is the last fucking thing you need. You were so worried about me coming here and then I call you like… this." He groans.

"Nah you're fine," I sigh. "I kind of like when you're the one with the problems."

"So you've said," He chuckles.

"I'm with mother Lahote right now," I say. "Cooking. Or, attempting to cook I should say."

"How's that going?" He asks.

"Well, it was boring until she taught me that trick about throwing the noodles onto the cabinet to see if they would stick. Then it got a little more exciting."

Paul laughs. "Sounds exhilarating."

"Wish you were here," I sigh. "Cooking is always much more fun when you're here to feel me up after I mess up."

"My mom's not doing that for you?"

"No!" I blurt.

He laughs. "Bummer."

"I'm lying on _your_ childhood bed right now. If I looked through your drawers and under your mattress would I find some dirty magazines?"

"You are so bad. Jesus."

I giggle.

"I'll let you go," He finally sighs. "I just needed to hear your voice."

"Well do you need some more of it? Because I could read you my grocery list."

"Keep your shopping list to yourself," He laughs. "I'm fine. We're fine. Everything is fine."

"Great even," I perk up.

"Ugh, you're so sweet. Too sweet. I love you, Scarlett."

"I love you too," I smile into the phone. "Go to Mimi's. You'll feel better."

"I think I'm going to." I can hear the grin in his voice.

"Good," I reply. "I want you to see the good parts of my childhood too. It wasn't always bad, Paul."

He sighs. "It shouldn't have been bad at all."

"Yeah, well," Silence hangs in the air between us, neither of us really knowing what else to say. "Just… yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," He sighs.

"Yeah," I breathe.

We stay on the line for five more minutes, just listening to each other breathe, and letting the sound of it calm us down and convince us that we're both alive, and that's all that really matters.

"Is everything okay, honey?" Paul's mom asks once I finally emerge in the kitchen. "Is Paul okay?"

"He's… fine," I sigh. "He's just having a hard time with it." I purse my lips and then peer at her out of the corner of my eye. "You know why he's there, right?"

Mrs. Lahote's forehead scrunches in worried lines. "Paul told me. It was so crazy, because he was worried more about you than himself, but I knew. I knew that it would be harder for him. My Paul is sensitive," She admits. "More sensitive than he lets on."

"Yeah," I whisper. "I get that."

"Are you okay?" She rubs my arm.

I bite the inside of my cheek and cross my arms tightly overtop of my chest. I look towards the floor as the feelings that I had suppressed when Paul called me on the phone in order to comfort him suddenly erupt out of me.

"Oh, sweetie." Mrs. Lahote pulls me to her in a huge, extremely comforting hug. I cry gently into her shoulder as she rubs my back. Mrs. Lahote comforting me is much like Paul when he does; actually, it is kind of weird for a second because it is so similar. But Mrs. Lahote is softer than Paul. She hugs me in a way that makes me want to cry and cry and never stop because she feels so welcoming.

"It's okay, honey," She kisses the side of my head. "He's okay."

"I know," I whimper and rest my cheek against her shoulder. "I just knew that this would happen. I don't want it to. I don't want Paul to feel bad about what happened to me. It's so frustrating because he somehow finds a way to blame himself. I mean doesn't he realize that he's the best guy on the planet? Seriously, I literally couldn't do any better if I made my own human."

"I know," She shushes me. "That's because he loves you, Scarlett. He just wants to protect you."

"I don't want it to change anything," I whimper.

"It won't," She pulls me away to kiss my forehead. "That I can promise you! If there is one thing I know about my son it is that he loves you. And nothing is going to change that."

I nod sadly as she wipes tears off of my cheeks. I giggle as she does so.

"And I know you're strong," She smiles at me, her tears welling up in her own eyes. "But let him at least think that he's taking care of you, alright?"

I giggle. "Yes."

"Alright, honey?" She kisses my cheek and then pulls me back to her to hug me tightly again. "You know you're my daughter, right? And I love you so much. Just as much as my son," She tells me, her voice thick with emotion. My face contorts, willing myself not to cry. I have never heard those words before, but they heal something inside of me that has been broken for so long I forget that it even existed.

"Why don't you stay tonight?" She offers, pressing my hair down on the back of my head.

I sniffle and nod my head into her shoulder.

"We'll finish up dinner and then watch a chick-flick. I've always wanted a daughter for this kind of thing!"

I giggle and swallow down the lump in my throat as I pull away. "I would like that," My voice quivers. I smile as I wipe my finger underneath my eyes. "Thanks."

After dinner, which turns out not terrible which is quite surprising, Mrs. Lahote offers to go grab me some pajamas. I retreat into Paul's bedroom to slip into them. I can't help but chuckle to myself when I hold up a matching pajama set of a silk long-sleeved shirt and pants with light pink stripes throughout them. I unbuckle my shorts and then let them fall to the floor. I pull off my top and bra and push them to the side… and then I just can't help myself. I slip underneath Paul's covers and take deep, greedy breaths of his pillow. I frown when it doesn't smell like him as much as I would like for it to.

I throw the covers off of me and then begin opening his drawers. I realize that I am kind of being a complete lunatic right now, but I fucking miss Paul. I go through a couple of shirts, smelling them like some psycho stalker before I finally decide on the one that smells the most like him and is the softest. I pull it overtop of my head and then roll it up in the back and tuck it up into itself so that it isn't at my knees.

When I emerge from Paul's room and back into the kitchen, Mrs. Lahote immediately notices my shirt and then smiles.

I sheepishly cross my arms overtop of my chest and then bite the corner of my lip.

"I bought him that shirt for Christmas when he was in high school," She smiles fondly at the memory.

"Oh, I'll- I'll take it off," I begin retreating.

"Oh honey, don't," She waves her hand at me. "It looks good on you! Here." Mrs. Lahote hands me a mug and I take it from her. Heat radiates from the mug into my palms. When I look down I see whipped cream and chocolate sauce.

I smile up at her. "Hot chocolate?"

"I used to make it for him every night when he was younger… when he was home at least."

I giggle and take a sip; it burns me a little bit so I pull away and blow on it. "Paul was a little rebellious, wasn't he?"

Mrs. Lahote rolls her eyes. "How much time do you have?"

"All night, actually," I nod my head.

She laughs and leads me into the family room. I take a seat on the couch and she drapes the softest blanket I have ever felt around my shoulders and then sits a few inches away from me.

"Paul was funny. He thought that I didn't know what he was doing; the parties he was going to and the girls he was messing around with, but I always knew."

"How did he think that he could hide that from you?" I ask, actually intrigued.

"He was always home at curfew. _Always._ And if he was going to be late he always called. He would say that he was hanging out with his friends when he was doing something that he wasn't supposed to, and he was always home for dinner later and cleaned up after it was over."

I can't help but smile. "Very Paul-like."

"He was a good boy," She smiles. "A little lost for a while but, a good boy."

I nod my head.

"What were you like as a child, Scarlett?"

"Ugh," I blow out some air and look up at the ceiling as I think about this. "Well, I was in about every sport imaginable, which made me pretty popular but, I don't know, girl's didn't like me so I always had guy friends. Um, never dated, but I guess that kind of has a lot to do with not wanting to really get close to anyone."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Lahote asks with those eyes that practically pull the words out of my mouth. Shit, now I know where Paul gets it from.

"Well, guys are easier. It was easy for me to be friends with them and hangout with them all day and all night and not have to worry about them asking too many questions. If they asked why I didn't want to wear a swimsuit or how I got a bruise or why I hated to be around my parents so much, they would just believe what ever answer I told them. They didn't push. With girls it's a little trickier. Just like it would have been if I had actually dated anyone. And then… Paul."

"And then Paul," Mrs. Lahote laughs. "To be fair, I don't think he was expecting to find you, either."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah he was definitely having _fun._ "

"Mrs. Lahote smiles gently. "You know that you never have to worry about that, honey." She reaches out and places her hand on top of mine. "Paul loves you. He really loves you. He… changed when he met you."

"I know," I smile at her and nod my head. "I really do. Any insecurities that I ever had about Paul being with other girls are long gone. I trust him and I love him and it's not really fair of me to judge his past considering my own."

Mrs. Lahote frowns. "It hurts him that they hurt you. You know that, right?"

I gulp and then nod my head. "Yes."

"But how are _you_?" She asks gently, taking a sip of her own hot chocolate. "How are you doing?"

I sigh. "I'm, okay," I sigh as I stare down into my drink. "I'm good when I'm not thinking about it. But then something will happen that shouldn't make me think about it, and suddenly I am and everything that I think I've worked through comes to the surface and," I let out a breath instead of finishing my sentence and shake my head. "I get so frustrated with myself because I'll act insecure or crazy or scared but Paul just," I shrug, "He just makes me feel better. And he understands and he doesn't walk away or give up and I just don't really know what I can do for him back."

"But it's not about that, honey," Mrs. Lahote speaks gently to me. "Love isn't about keeping score. Or always about being fair. You help Paul in more ways than he will ever know, with things that you don't even know about."

"I know I just- I mean it's not always the easiest being the one with all the problems in the relationship."

Mrs. Lahote smiles. "You're not a problem, Scarlett. I love you; my son keeps you selfishly to himself but I am still able to see you, the real you. And you might not like this, but what happened to you made you such a beautiful person."

I smile. "That's a positive way of looking at it."

"Well, after going through something like that I understand the need to turn a terrible into something great."

I try to smile but I can't quite get there. "Paul mentioned something about… that," I quickly divert my eyes.

"It's okay," She smiles reassuringly. "You can ask."

I gulp. "I-Ugh-I- I don't really know what to say."

Mrs. Lahote laughs gently. "I was in high school when I got pregnant with Paul. I call him my Karma for a while and the reason is because I had sex one time and then got pregnant with him, so that was just terrible luck."

I giggle.

"Paul's dad was… not a nice boy, but he was an even meaner man. At first he tried- we, both tried, to make it work and to do the right thing, but it became apparent that his idea of making it work was sleeping around with whomever he pleased, which was fine as long as he came home at night." She gets a far off look in her eyes that makes me extremely sad for a reason I can't quite place. "When he started… hurting me at first it was just, random, and not too hard, and he was always extremely apologetic, and he had reasons behind it that actually made sense and I just thought that if I acted differently or didn't ask about certain things or had dinner ready on time it wouldn't happen again."

I frown as I raise my mug to my lips and pull my knees up to my chest. "Y-yeah, when my mom first married my step-dad I just thought that it was my fault. And it was just- I mean, it was absolutely crazy, because when it happened I knew that it wasn't my fault. _I knew it._ But he would almost, convince me."

"They're manipulative," Mrs. Lahote nods. "It's something that I only realized after a lot of therapy," She laughs and rolls her eyes at the ceiling. "But abusers; they have extremely manipulative personalities. And then the brainwashing happens. The not wanting anyone to know or wanting to tell anyone."

I frown. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and squint my eyes together before I tighten my jaw down so that I am sure not to let anything slip.

"You don't agree?" She asks softly.

I raise my wide eyes up at her. "N-no- I-I mean that I d-do- I- I don't know what,"

"It's okay, Scarlett," Mrs. Lahote rubs the tops of my arms. "You can disagree with me. I'm not going to argue with you about what you took away from your abuse."

I smile. "I just- I mean- Like, why? Why didn't you just leave?"

Mrs. Lahote sighs, as if she was expecting this. "It's terrible, isn't it? It makes me look like a coward, especially after what happened to you. I could leave, so why didn't I? Why didn't I walk out the door one day and go to the police and tell them everything. But in that case, why didn't you?"

I gulp. "I did."

"How many times?" She just barely smiles.

My voice is raw. "Once."

She nods her head. "I told three times. The police, they, they need proof. And his parents had a _lot_ of money." She shakes her head incredulously. "I thought they would take Paul away from me. And then eventually I just kind of got caught in this web that I made for myself. I truly believed that I couldn't say anything, and,"

"And even when people asked you direct questions or gave you an opening you wouldn't say anything. Not because you didn't want to, but because you couldn't. It was instinct. You didn't even think about saying anything."

"Exactly," Mrs. Lahote sighs.

"So, how did you get away from him?" I just barely whisper.

"He left me."

"Oh."

"Yeah," She shakes her head to herself. "Not leaving him myself is the biggest regret of my entire life. But I'm stronger now. And I would kill him if he ever came around me again."

I laugh. "Yeah, you don't seem like the type of girl who would let anyone manhandle you."

"Neither do you," She raises an eyebrow at me.

I widen my eyes. "Whatever you say."

"Exactly," Mrs. Lahote laughs. "I am always right so listen to me."

"Okay, I will," I chuckle.

"You left," She squeezes my hand and I find myself squeezing back. "You're stronger than I was. And yours went on a lot longer than mine, and it started when you were just a little girl. You raised yourself. And you raised yourself to be an incredible woman, Scarlett. You're going to be an amazing mother."

My mouth drops. "Ugh, ugh-," My eyes widen.

"Not ready for that yet?" She laughs.

I finally let out a breath that is half a laugh and more of relief. "Definitely not."

"That's fine. As long as you promise me grandchildren," She points her finger at me.

"Ugh," I stammer. "You're gunna have to talk to your son about that in like ten to fifteen years."

She rolls her eyes. "I'll talk to you again in five. How does that sound?"

"Perfect!" I exclaim, just wanting to get off of this particular subject.

She giggles and squeezes my knee. "Alright, enough heavy. What movie are we thinking for tonight?"

I set my empty mug on the table and twist my hair up behind my back. "I am afraid that something sappy might just send us off a cliff of our emotional rollercoaster."

Mrs. Lahote bursts out laughing. "You're probably right. Oh! How about that true story about the people who climbed Mount Everest and got caught on the way up? I saw it on paper view a few nights ago and waited because I got too tired."

I chuckle. "Sounds perfect. We need to watch a few people die tonight."

I hug a pillow to my chest as she laughs and takes our cups into the kitchen.

I pull out my phone and start a new text.

 _Some serious Mrs. Lahote/Scarlett bonding is going down tonight at this sleepover- thought you'd like to hear that. Miss you a lot. Hope you're feeling better. Love you._

I turn my phone on silent when Mrs. Lahote walks back into the room. The one thing that I got from talking to Mrs. Lahote is that I am not weak or tainted because of what happened to me. The same things happened to her, and I would never think that of her when I speak to her. She is kind and warm and eccentric, and it makes me realize that when people see me, they don't see my abuse either.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I take a seat at Mimi's Café and pick up a menu. I haven't eaten all day. I am light headed, angry and just plain sad. I got a text from Scarlett a little while ago saying that she was sleeping over my mom's and that she missed me and loved me. I called her back but she didn't answer, which made me happier than it did sad.

"What'll you have tonight?" A petite woman with a high, ponytail and dark, messy eye makeup comes up to me.

"What do you suggest?" I sigh and sit back in my seat.

She peers down from beneath her this mascara to take a peak at me. "Are you new around here?"

"Just visiting," I tell her.

"Anyone in particular? It's a small town."

"You wouldn't happen to be Mimi, would you?"

"Did the restaurant name give it away?"

I laugh. "Kind of."

"Well no," The lady smiles. "I'm her sister. She's on vacation this week for some much needed TLC. Did you know her?"

"Oh, no," I clear my throat. "It's just- someone told me about her. I'll just have whatever you think it is the best entre. And then some soup."

"Pie?"

I raise my eyebrow. "Pie?"

"It's what we're known for!" She smiles. "Tell you what- I'll just set you up tonight and then take half off the check."

"Oh, that's not necessary," I begin, but she cuts me off.

"My treat. First timer's special." She smiles at me and then grabs the menu off of the table. "I'm Sara by the way."

I nod. "Well thank you."

"Of course!" She winks at me.

I blink a few times.

Is this lady flirting with me?

My first thought is that it is funny that she is so much older than me and coming onto me, but then I remember that I am actually 25 years old and she must be late 20's and I am basically just a fucking pedophile considering I started dating Scarlett when she was 17. I rub my face harshly. I just want to eat and shower and forget about this fucking day ever happening. The only thing making me feel better is knowing that Scarlett is having a good night with my mother.

I eat and have two pieces of pie (on the house) which is actually as good as this lady said it would be. I go up to pay at the counter while she is in the back so that she doesn't have a chance to pay for my food.

"Hey, how was it?" A kid with curly blonde hair and light blue eyes asks me casually.

"Great," I say as I hand him a 50 dollar bill." I stare at him for a moment longer once he takes my money; he looks so damn familiar, though I can't place from where.

"Hey," I begin, suddenly remembering Scarlett's request. "Alex isn't working tonight, is she?"

He freezes and raises his eyebrows.

"No?"

He frowns.

"Well," I sigh, seeming to get nowhere with this kid and not having enough energy to push anymore. "If you see her, could you possibly tell her that Scarlett says hi?"

His mouth drops. "Scarlett Rhodes?" He blurts.

I take a step back. "Ugh," I rub my jaw. "Yeah. She asked me to tell Alex I said hello. Could you just pass the message onto her?"

Suddenly, this kid is laughing, and I mean _really_ laughing.

"No freaking way!" He exclaims. "Scarlett Rhodes? I mean, we have the right girl, right? _My_ Scarlett?" He is laughing again.

I frown. "My Scarlett," I mutter.

"Dude!" He throws his head back. " _You're_ the guy! This is- this is- this is great! Ugh! Hey man!" He holds his hand out towards me and I stare it for a moment. "I'm Alex."

My mouth drops. "Y-you're the best friend?" I stammer.

"That would be me," He laughs and then pushes his hand forward.

I am able to swallow down my surprise enough to actually shake his head.

"Hey, give me two seconds so I can clock out. I'll take my fifteen."

"Alright," I clear my throat and take an awkward step back. After he disappears in the back for a while I decide to take a seat and wait for him.

Alex is a _guy?_ This is a not so great turn of events.

"Sorry about that," He takes a seat across from me and then smiles. I suddenly remember why he looks so familiar. A particular picture of Scarlett in his lap flashes across my mind. My jaw tenses. "So you're the guy," He sighs and shakes his head.

"Excuse me?"

He laughs. "She called me like three weeks after her move. Said she liked a guy. I thought I was hallucinating."

I can't help but laugh at how serious he is.

"Not even kidding," He laughs. "I used to joke with her that God himself would come down from the heavens and he _still_ wouldn't be good enough for her."

"Well, that's kind of not that off base," I sit up.

"Right?" He laughs. "Jeeze. Wow. I- I feel like I'm meeting a celebrity right now."

I laugh. "You're pretty popular too. You are the friend that beat up the water tower douche, right?"

"That would be me," He sits back and rests his hands behind his head. "No one touches my little Rhodes." He moans and sits up. "Which is why I have to say: If you hurt her, I will… hurt you." I raise my eyebrows. "Usually this comes off as more threatening when you're not twice the size of me, but I have to do my job."

"Your job?" I laugh.

"Yes," He laughs. "You should have seen her walk through high school that very first day of class. She was like the biggest thing that's ever happened to this small town: Fresh meat. The guys were practically putting money down on who could bang her first." I frown at the mention of anyone "banging" my girl. "And I have to admit I was one of those guys. I mean, _look at her_ ," His eyes widen.

"What changed?" I clear my throat, pulling him back on track.

He sighs. "I talked to her. She was so innocent, and… sweet. Too sweet for those assholes. I kind of just decided that I was going to make sure none of them got their claws on her. And then of course I winded up under the Rhodes spell, or at least that's what everyone calls it around here."

I nod my head, a smile forming on my lips. "Wait, if I remember correctly you are also the water tower kissing _bandit_ from Freshman year."

"That would be me," He hangs his head.

I laugh. "Don't sweat. She told me it was weirder than it was anything else."

His eyes widen. "Yeah, for her maybe."

"What?"

Alex laughs. "She's _Scarlett Rhodes._ Seriously the most beautiful girl anyone has ever seen. I didn't talk to her for a week because I couldn't believe that I had actually kissed her! But I guess she didn't because she thought it was totally not there- and I was totally cool with that because I was totally unworthy."

I laugh. "Good instincts."

"So what is it about you?" He sits back and crossing his arms overtop of his chest. "Why _you_?"

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, is it serious?"

I chuckle. "Yes. It's serious."

"Jesus," He laughs up at the ceiling and shakes his head. "This is insane. I can't believe you're dating little Rhodes!"

For some reason, I'm not really hating the nickname. I am brought back to a prior journal entry about going over to Alex's to get away from her stepfather. She had written about how he took care of her all weekend after she told him she was sick and didn't even ask any questions.

I am suddenly smiling at him. "I'm glad she had you," I say.

He smiles. "I'm glad I had her! How's she doing? Life has been way too blondless without her here."

I laugh. "She's great. Amazing actually. She's better than she's ever been."

"That's awesome," He smiles genuinely.

"Have you talked to her a lot?" I ask, honestly curious. Scarlett never brought up any aspects of her old life, even Alex, even though this was obviously a very healthy friendship.

"Eh, I call her from time to time. She texts me every once in a while. She's kinda like a guy in that sense."

I laugh. "Completely understand."

"I miss my little sidekick though," He smiles. "Last time I talked to her she was yelling at me for hooking up with a girl that hated Scarlett's guts?"

I laugh. "Why did she hate her?"

"All the girls hated her," Alex rolls his eyes. "But they had to be nice to her. All the boys loved her. Seriously! After it kind of became apparent that she wasn't into _anyone_ the guys kind of changed their attitudes. She's cool, you know? She's not like most girls. She'll play pool with you all night and watch fucked up movies about zombies after that. The girls hated her because she was just apart of our little group."

I smile. "I actually had no idea that Scarlett was only friends with guys."

"That's her," He laughs. "Mysterious."

I nod and then gulp, sitting up in my chair. "Did you, ugh- I mean, her dad," I let my voice trail off.

Alex looks confused. "Oh, yeah," He says after a moment. "She really had a problem with him, didn't she? Sometimes she would come over and be so upset but refuse to talk about it. I don't know, I always thought that maybe he was… I don't know," He shakes his head and suddenly looks uncomfortable.

"He was what?" I say a little too eagerly. I dial back when I notice that he notices. "What did you think?"

"That maybe he like… _touched_ her or something. I- I don't know." He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a long breath. "I asked her a few times but she laughed. I- I don't know. I'm probably crazy. I was always just a little overprotective of her.

I let my eyes drop and suddenly feel terrible for this kid. He really did love Scarlett; in a different way of course, but he loved her. He spent years of his life protecting her, but the truth is that he was protecting her from the wrong things. I know that if he knew the truth about what was happening to her, it would kill him.

"He didn't," I speak. "Touch her, I mean."

Alex actually looks relieved. "Oh, well… oh."

"Yeah," I nod my head. "They didn't get along. But he didn't touch her in, that way." Not necessarily a lie.

"I miss her," He says with a sigh. "She here?"

"No," I clear my throat. "I just had to come grab some things for her. "You- just- don't mention that I'm here, alright? It wasn't just her dad that she had a problem with. She's not really speaking to her mom, either."

He laughs. "If there is one thing that I know about little Rhodes, it's to never tell her parents, or anyone else for that matter, anything about her unless she explicitly tells me to. Don't worry, bro. Your secret's safe with me."

I stand and then he follows suit.

"It was great meeting you," I tell him honestly. "You're welcoming in Washington whenever."

"Thanks man," He practically beams. "If the demon ever calls me back I'll try to make a trip up there."

I laugh. "Demon for sure."

"See ya," He smiles and heads back towards the back.

"Bye."

I have the door open and am halfway out when that waitress, (what is her name again?) stops me.

"Oh, wait a second!" She laughs and then pops her hip at me. I can tell what she is doing; I have seen hundreds of girls do the exact same thing, but it doesn't have the same effect as it used to, especially when I think of Scarlett doing the same thing. "You didn't let me pay," She playfully pokes my shoulder.

I take a step back. "I didn't think it was appropriate. Thanks anyways," I smile and nod my head at her, hoping that it would stop there.

"Oh, really?" She laughs, not seeming to take the hint, "Well, how about something extra inappropriate?" She bites her lip and it looks almost laughable compared to Scarlett's lip bite. "Call me?" She holds out a piece of paper and I stare at it for a moment, not contemplating, but not sure how to say no and not be rude at the same time.

"Ugh, no thank you," I smile curtly at her. "It's not you, really. If you saw my girlfriend you would understand."

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Alex smile as I step out of the diner and let the door close behind me.

* * *

 _Met Alex._

 _Alex is a man…_

I text her two messages as I am lying in bed that night.

 _Whoops?_

I roll my eyes.

 _How was movie night?_

 _I'm obsessed w your mom. We have a lot more in common than I thought.  
_

 _Both obsessed with me?_ I type.

 _You wish! We barely even talked about you!_

I laugh to myself.

 _Miss you "little Rhodes"_ I roll my eyes as I use Alex's nickname for her.

 _I like baby girl much better ;)_

I can't help but smile. _Tomorrow will be better._

 _For who exactly?_

 _Both of us._

It takes her a moment to reply. _But my day wasn't bad._

 _You think I have to be in the same state as you to know what's going on with you?_

This time, she calls me.

"Baby girl," I answer the phone with a smile.

I hear her giggle. "Hi."

"Hi," I melt just at the sound of her voice. "How's my mother's."

"Wonderful," She sighs. "I'm sleeping over in your bed tonight."

"That's fucking adorable," I nod my head.

She giggles. "I'm wearing your tee-shirt. Your mom gave me some of her pants but I took them off after I got in bed. Paul shirts are unlike any other sleep shirts."

I laugh. "I am glad to hear that."

"You know, I would probably have a kid with you."

My mouth drops. "What?" I blurt.

"I mean not now!" She quickly stammers. "Obviously not now! Not for a while, actually! But I'm just saying that if I ever did have a kid with anyone, it would only be you. If, I mean. Like- not sure if I want one but… if."

I close my eyes and smile. "If I have ever had a kid, it would be with you too, so that's a good thing."

She giggles. "Sorry. I'm weird."

"Definitely weird," I agree. "Kind of get the Embry friendship now, by the way."

"Huh?"

"I get it. I always wondered why you like Embry so much, and now I kind of get it. He's a lot like Alex. And you only ever had guy friends; it's more natural for you than with Nessie."

"Nessie is also really hard to handle sometimes," Scarlett sighs.

"You love Nessie," I scold her.

"I do," She chuckles. "Sometimes I just don't understand the female brain. It's hard for me to relate to someone who talks about sex 95% of the time. I seriously have no desire to share our sex life with Nessie."

I burst out laughing. "I am super glad to hear that!"

She giggles. "And guys are different. As much as everyone says guys are the gross ones, I swear I have never had one ask me about sex the way that she asks me about it!"

I chuckle. "Heard you were hard to get. I like it."

"That's just because you got me," She sighs.

"You're mine," I smile. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," Scarlett breathes. "If I really am yours you'll come back and sleep with me this instant."

"You're insane."

"I prefer slightly crazed."

"Definitely insane."

"Come home."

"I can't," I moan. "I wish, though, baby."

"I'm going to fake my kidnapping to get you to come home."

"Seriously, not even funny kid."

She giggles. "How's Alex?"

"He's great," I smile. "I really liked him, surprisingly. He looked out for you."

"Yeah," She giggles. "He's like the only person I miss from Crenshaw."

My brain fights with my lips for a second before I finally speak. "Scar? Why didn't you… tell him? I mean he obviously cared. And he would have protected you."

"Stop it Paul," She answers immediately.

"I'm just wonder-,"

"Well stop wondering," Her voice is harsh. "I don't want to talk about it."

Silence hangs on the line between us. "Sorry," I say after a while.

"Don't be," She moans. "Not your fault. I-I'm mad at myself more than you. Just- I don't- I don't want to talk about it."

I ponder bringing up therapy before I think better of it and shut my mouth.

"Well he seemed like a great friend."

"He was," Scarlett's voice softens. "I would sleep over his house when things got bad. He never asked questions."

"Not loving you talking about sleeping over at another guy's house. At least tell me you didn't share a bed," I joke.

"We were on separate sides?"

"Scarlett!" I laugh. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She giggles. "Sorry, Lahote!"

I sigh. "That's why, isn't it?"

"Hm?"

"That's why you liked him so much," I clarify. "He never asked any questions. You didn't tell him because you didn't want to. You felt,"

"Normal," She finishes for me. "When I was with him I felt normal."

I nod my head. "And how do you feel when you're with me?" I ask after a moment.

I can hear the smile in her voice. "Honest."

To anyone else, that might sound odd; but to me, I know how much that means when it comes to Scarlett. She has lied her entire life, but with me, she is authentic.

"Paul?" Her voice is sweet.

"Yes?" I close my eyes and breathe her voice in.

"Could you like… talk to me until I fall asleep? Tell me a story or something- I don't know."

I smile and grab one of the three books in the dresser next to my bed, provided by the hotel. "You a Gatsby fan?"

"More of a critic. But I'll bite."

I laugh. "Close your eyes," I tell her, as I open to the first page.

* * *

Ugh Paul and Scarlett are so cute. Comment bellow!


	34. Gasp

Sorry for the wait. GET READY...

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Touch me one more time and I will hit you again but this time in the groin."

Embry rolls his eyes. "Won't you at least let me teach you how to punch?"

"Nope," I pop the "p" at the end. "Paul said he would teach me."

"Paul's afraid of poking you too hard."

"Shut up," I shove his chest, though a part of me kind of realizes that his accusation is accurate.

"You two going to join us or what?" Jacob asks from across the garage.

"No thanks!" I call back happily. I pick up the box of Oreo's from the floor next to me and offer it to Embry. He takes six and then dumps them all in his milk.

"I am disgusted at how you eat Oreo cookies," I shake my head at him.

"I'm sorry I don't sit there for eight hours holding it in the milk and then freak out when I hold it in too long and it falls off."

"It is a very precise science!" I defend myself. "And it's not eight hours! It is about 32 seconds."

"Did you count it?" He scoffs.

"Obviosuly," I roll my eyes.

"Well that 32 has last you your last two cookies."

"Well your way costs you all your cookies! You drink all the milk out and then practically drink the Oreos. What the hell is that?"

"A more efficient way of doing something. Ever think of that, princess?"

"At least you don't eat all the filling out first."

"That would be barbaric," He nods his head.

"Brutal."

"Murderous."

"Cruel."

"So are we just going to sit here and eat cookies all day or what?" Embry huffs.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," I smile with my mouth full.

He sighs. "Fine. But if we're not going to aid your physical wellbeing we could eat least get into your basket case of a head."

"Hey!" I exclaim.

Embry rolls his eyes. "How are you? How's Paul? How are you guys together?"

"Gee, Emb. Any more questions you want to slip in there while you're at it?"

"Certainly. Still having night terrors?"

I moan. "You suck."

He laughs. "I'm just being honest."

" _Brutally_ honest," I roll my eyes.

"So how are you, princess? How's Paul's castle?"

"You mean his apartment Embry?"

"That's what I said."

I sigh. "You are ridiculous. It's fine."

"Fine is never good when it comes to you. It is the opposite of good, actually."

"You're annoying me."

"So, bad?"

I moan. "Would you quit it? No, it's not bad, okay? It's great. Paul's sweet. Too sweet for me but we already know that. We had a fight before he left."

"About what?" Embry asks easily.

"Well," I sigh, contemplating it in my mind. "It wasn't exactly a fight _per say_."

"What was it than?"

"He basically demanded that I go to therapy and I of course was like 'No way I'm not crazy!' and then continued to freak out and scream at him the a psychopath and forget I was yelling at him and then started screaming at him like he was my step-father."

"Wow," Embry speaks after a moment.

"Wow?" My eyes widen in a sort of panic. "You don't have anything to say other than that?"

He raises his eyebrows at me. "You finally lost it."

My mouth drops. "I'm _not_ crazy, Embry," I demand.

"Yeah, yeah," He rolls his eyes. "You kinda are."

"Shut up!" I yell.

"Chill, princess," He holds his hands up. "Don't scream at _me_. I'm Embry, remember?"

"You're so annoying," I cross my arms tightly overtop of my chest and plaster a frown on my face. Though I understand that Embry enjoys teasing me more than anything else, this is still a sore subject for me.

"Scarlett," Embry's voice is softer now. "I don't think you're actually crazy."

"How's that thing going for you?" I begin, just wanting to change the subject.

"What thing?"

"The sleeping around thing."

He laughs. "We're not talking about this."

"Why not?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"Because I decided it. It's not good for you."

"You know Paul and I have sex," I tell him.

Embry rolls his eyes. "Yep. You practically reeked of it for two weeks straight."

"That is not true!" My mouth drops.

"Yes it is," He laughs. "Wolf senses."

"That is disgusting, Embry!" My tone is biting. " _You_ are disgusting."

"Actually, you are pretty disgusting," He rolls his eyes.

"Enough, okay?"

"Hey, Princess; if you're not cool with me inquiring about your love life than don't ask about mine."

"Fine!" I huff. "I won't ask about yours if you promise me that you _definitely_ won't ask about mine."

"Fine," Embry smiles that annoying, goofy grin.

I lean into his side just a little bit to let him know that I'm not mad at him anymore. "Can you believe he said I need therapy?" I ask, my voice quieter.

"Obviously," Embry answers back in a whisper. "I mean, Scar, you've gotta know you need it, come on."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "I don't want to go. You don't understand. I can't _talk_ about it. I just can't. Like, I'm not being dramatic or not wanting to. I physically can't. It's like my mouth won't form around the words."

"The thing is princess," He leans in closer to me. "Therapy would probably help you fix that." He shrugs. "Just a thought."

"I can think of nothing worse than sitting in an office with a fifty year old woman who went to the local university on her parent's dime and studied the human brain because she was just so 'fascinated with it!'," I roll my eyes. "Screw that."

"Paul has literally given up his life for you. Make a sacrifice."

"Embry!" I whisper yell at him.

"What?" He laughs. "I'm just being honest with you, Scarlett! No one's honest with you. You need to make a sacrifice and get yourself fixed up."

"Is there a problem with me?" I raise an eyebrow.

"No," Embry smiles widely. "You're perfect. And all of us, Paul included, think so. But you can't pretend like it never happened."

"That's what Paul said," I sigh.

"If Paul and I agree than it _has_ to be right."

I giggle. "Oh please, you and Paul agree on almost everything. You just have very different… approaches."

He laughs. "What? You mean he wouldn't have punched you in the face to get you to defend yourself?"

"Definitely not," I chuckle.

"Want me to take you to therapy this week?" He asks with a sigh.

I am momentarily taken aback, but after a moment of staring at Embry and watching him act as if he asked if I wanted to watch a sports game with him later, I swallow down my pride and lean in closer to his side.

"Yeah."

"Paul will be proud of you," He says earnestly.

I peer up at him and can't help a wide small from filling my features. "You're a big teddy bear Emb, you know that?"

He looks at me funny. "You _are_ crazy."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. I'm over this. I'm going home."

"Whatever you want, Princess."

"Nessie!" I call as I stand up. She stops what she is doing mid-punch to answer.

"Yeah?"

"Let's go!"

" _Yaaaa!_ " She throws her gloves off and then sprints over to me. She entwines her hand with mine and we swing them as we bounce towards the door. "What do you wanna do?"

"Just leave me out again!" I hear Kim huff.

I giggle as I turn. "I thought you were hanging out with Jared?"

"I am!" She crosses her arms and pops her hip. "But I still would appreciate an invite."

Nessie and I both burst out laughing. "Wanna come?"

"No I can't, but thanks!" She is suddenly happy again.

"Crazy," I giggle as I turn around about to leave.

"Ness, come here," Jacob smiles and walks over to us.

I narrow my eyes at him warningly though he just laughs at me. I know that look in his eye; it is what he uses every time he gets Nessie to hangout with him instead of me.

She lets go of my hand and flings herself into his arms. He hugs her to his chest as she wraps her arms around his neck. He kisses her softly on the cheek before whispering something into her ear. She gasps and her eyes widen in excitement.

I roll my eyes and turn to leave, not even needing to hear an explanation.

"Scarlett!" Nessie calls after me with a laugh. "Wait! Come back!"

"Enjoy your date you psychopaths!" I call back.

"You can come," She offers, though her proposal is half-hazard as best.

"Would rather spend my night alone than watching you two have sex!" I wave at them and turn to offer them a quick smile so that they know I'm not really mad, and then get into my car.

Once I get back to Paul's apartment I wind up lying on his bed searching through YouTube for a few hours, completely bored out of my mind. Pretty sure Embry has some sort of date or hookup tonight, at least that's what I took when he said he was busy and wouldn't give any more information. Quil is going to Claire's dance recital; no thank you, Seth and Leah have a family dinner. Sam and Emily are out of town, and my two favorite couples are each having their own date nights tonight.

I am so bored I could cry.

I am so bored that I seriously contemplate going down to see Paul, and even go as far as to check out ticket prices. Thankfully, I realize what a terrible idea that is considering Paul told me multiple times that he needs to do this alone.

After a few more minutes I decide I am angry at him for not allowing me to join him.

But then I realize how insane that is and it steers me on the track of local therapists in the area. I think it is totally idiotic, but I look at pictures above anything. No way a man could help me; the thought alone nearly makes me laugh. After countless clicks out of the page, I find one woman that looks promising, at least, most promising than the others.

Her name is Nancy Mills. "Nancy," I say the name over and over and over again, listening to the way that it sounds and the way that it feels rolling off of my tongue. Unlike the other shrinks, she doesn't look so _uptight._ She is wearing a colorful sweater in her picture and her hair is short and spiky. She doesn't have too much makeup on and her smile isn't forced or too tight and thank God she doesn't have Botox because I was beginning to think that all psychologists were required to have a frozen face.

I pick up my phone three times before I finally tell myself to stop being a baby and just call, mostly due to Embry's words. "Make a sacrifice," he said.

"Make a fucking sacrifice," I mutter to myself and press send.

The secretary picks up on the second ring. I gasp and sit up. Shit. I totally forgot about speaking.

"U-ugh. Hi." I cringe. Hi, Scarlett? Really?

"Hello," The receptionist responds easily. "Are you a patient here?"

"Ugh, no," I speak slowly.

"Would you like to be?"

"Not really," My voice picks up at the end.

She laughs. "Are you calling to make an appointment or are you just looking for information? Or do you want to leave a message for Nancy?"

"Um, I think I'd like to make an appointment." I let out a breath of relief and then nod my head, satisfied with myself. Go Scarlett!

"Great!" She responds happily. "Can I have your name?"

"Scarlett Rhodes," I answer proudly.

"Wonderful! Were you recommended by a physician?"

"No. Do I need to be?"

"Not at all! Are you insured?"

"Yes."

"Great! I only ask because if you were recommended by a physician I would need to have your medical records sent over and I could see if you had health insurance without having to ask."

"Oh."

"Have you ever been to a mental health professional before?"

"Ugh, no," I gnaw on the inside of my cheek.

"Great! You're going to be pleasantly surprised than; Nancy is wonderful."

I don't really know how to respond to that.

"Alright so what I'm going to do is have you come in for an initial planning session which we do for all our new patients where Nancy assesses what it is you would like to work and what you are wanting to get out the sessions with her and then you two together will make a plan as to how often you need to be coming in and goals and things like that. Does that sound alright?"

"Ugh, yeah," I perk up. "That actually doesn't sound that terrible." My eyes widen. Oops; hadn't meant to say that out loud.

She laughs easily. "Alright, when are you looking to come in."

"Oh, well," I scratch my head. "I guess the soonest you have available."

"Soonest available," She murmurs. "Well, actually I just had a cancellation tomorrow. Is that too soon?"

My mouth drops. "T-t-tomorrow?"

"Yes. That would be tomorrow at 12:00."

I gulp. "Um, o-okay."

"Alright?" She perks up. "Just bring your insurance card with you and there will be a copay of twenty dollars for the first appointment. And we just ask that you arrive about thirty minutes prior to your appointment time to fill out some Q&A sheets and forms."

"Wow. Okay."

"Great, Scarlett. I'll let Nancy know now; I'm sure she's excited to meet you tomorrow!"

"Thanks," I respond shakily.

"Thank you!"

I hit off and then slowly lie down on the bed.

What the hell did I just do.

A few hours of loathing later I finally pick my phone up to call Embry.

"Hello?" He answers after it rings for a while. It is really loud in the background, and he is shouting to be able to hear me.

"Are you on a date?" I ask bluntly.

"No. What's up?"

I sigh. "I made a therapy appointment."

"What?" He yells into the phone.

"Therapy, Embry!" I yell. "Tomorrow! Can you take me?"

"Oh," He laughs. "So you decided to take my advice, did ya?"

"Shut up."

He laughs again. "Yeah I'll take you. What time?"

"Noon but I have to be there early so 11:30 so we have to leave at 11. So basically 11."

"Alright."

"Want to see if you're going to be spending the night with anyone tonight and then give me a call back for sure?"

"Scarlett," Embry moans. "I'm not on a date."

"What are you doing than?" I can't help my intrigue from taking over.

"I'm at a bar," He sighs. "With some friends."

"Girl friends?"

"A few."

I have no idea why that bothers me so much. It shouldn't, and as soon as I think about Paul I feel ridiculously guilty. But it isn't even that he's out with friends that are girls, it's that he didn't even invite me.

"Okay. Well, bye."

"Wait, Scarlett."

I stop myself from hitting end.

"I'm not trying to exclude you. I just- I- I- You want me to come hangout with you?"

"No," I answer quickly. "It's fine."

The music fades. "Scarlett," His voice is much clearer now. "Are you pissed?"

"No."

"You're pissed."

"I'm not pissed," I moan. "I'm bored. And I don't need you coming here to be bored with me because you think I'd cock-block you out with your _other_ girlfriends just because I'm suggesting you don't sleep around."

"Scarlett," Embry sighs. "I'm not sleeping around, okay? But you need to stop being so fucking weird about it. It… confuses me. You can't just want me but not really want me at the same time."

I gasp. "I don't want you at all! I want Paul!"

"Fine, Princess. You may not want me like that, but you definitely have a claim over me, or so you think. Am I right?"

I remain quiet on the line. Is that what it is? Am I _claiming_ Embry? Is that why I get so weird when he talks about sleeping with other girls.

I gnaw on my cuticles, probably drawing blood though I could care less. "I miss Paul," I sigh. "I'm sorry I'm taking it out on you."

"Yeah I know you miss Paul, but that's not just it."

"I'll just take myself there tomorrow," I say quickly.

"Would you stop being ridiculous?" He moans. "You're going to ruin my night, and it hasn't even started yet."

"You are in charge of your own night!" I argue. His own night that _I_ wasn't invited to attend. I can't help but get jealous when I think about all his other girl friends that are all laughing and having fun with him. But I'm his _best_ friend, I imagine telling them.

"You know what, why don't you call Paul and be a bitch?"

I gasp. Embry has been blunt with me before, but he has never called me a name before, not seriously anyways.

I hit off on my phone and then cross my arms tightly overtop of my chest. My phone vibrates next to me four times before I finally turn it off. But then I realize that I want to hear if Paul calls so I turn it back on, having to endure five more phone calls from Embry.

Finally, I gather up my things and make sure that I pack a blanket and a few jackets and a book. There is one place that I can always go to be alone where I don't really feel like I am alone at all. Even though it is freezing, I need to be at the beach.

Once I am there, I completely lose myself. There is something insanely peaceful and fulfilling about sitting on the beach bundled up in a blanket, reading a book and looking out at the ocean as snow threatens to fall. I love it much more than I thought I would.

Embry stopped calling after about fifteen minutes, which kind of pisses me off, but then again, he's not Paul. Paul would never stop calling. Actually, Paul wouldn't have called me a bitch in the first place. God. I really need to stop comparing Embry to Paul.

My phone vibrates next to me and I breathe an actual breath of relief. Finally. I can't stand Embry and I fighting anymore. When I see Paul's name across my screen I immediately feel guilty again. I haven't heard from him since early this morning. I should be hanging on every breath for _his_ call. I shouldn't be so hard on myself, though; I'm not in a fight with Paul at the moment, so it makes sense why I am concerning myself with Embry.

"Lahote," I breathe, holding my breath until I hear his voice.

"Scarlett." His voice is warm and inviting and perfect and _Paul._

"Paul," My voice is suddenly quivering. Ugh! It's Paul Lahote; he just does that to me!

"What's wrong?" He asks, obviously concerned.

"Today has been a terrible day," I sniffle.

"Why? What happened baby? Talk to me?"

I sigh. "Nothing. Well, nothing really. I was just bored all day. Everyone had plans and I was super bored and then I got in a fight with Embry."

"What happened with Embry?" He asks gently.

"He called me a bitch."

"He called you a what?" Paul's voice is obviously angry.

I wince. "I kind of deserved it?"

"You _never_ deserve that. Fuck him, Scarlett. I'll- I'll deal with him when I get home. Don't go near him anymore this week, babe."

I sigh. "That's fine."

"Are you sad?" He asks after a moment.

"Kinda," I answer honestly.

"Want me to make you feel better?" He asks sweetly.

I giggle. "You can try."

"Guess where I am?"

"Lying in my bed," I guess.

"Nope. Try again."

"Hmmm," I frown. "Oh! The diner?"

"No," He laughs, though I stopped in last night."

"Oh yeah? How'd you like it?"

"Had a mint, chocolate chip milkshake. Screw being an alcoholic, I'm becoming a milkshakeaholic!"

I giggle. "See! I told you!"

"And I think I saw some of your high school friends because Alex was there. I thought the girls he was with were going to claw my eyes out."

I giggle. "I'm surprised they didn't flirt with you."

He laughs.

"Did they?" I push, suddenly uneasy.

"Babe, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. They only flirted with me because Alex introduced me as your boyfriend."

"Ugh!" I moan. "I hate myself today! I'm so insecure today," I whimper. "I yelled at Embry about sleeping around because he didn't invite me out with his other friends and I'm freaking out because I'm imaging those sluts all over you and getting really fucking jealous."

"Scarlett," Paul laughs. "Don't say that you hate yourself. You're perfect, alright?"

I whimper.

"What are you thinking about? Hm? You think I would actually entertain any of those little girls? _You're_ my baby. You're the sexiest woman I've ever met. And I love you so much. You're the only woman I've ever loved."

I can't help but smile. "Thanks, Paul. I-I'm just emotional today," I sniffle.

"You're emotional, baby?"

"Yes," I whimper.

"I'm sorry you're having a tough day."

"Yeah well, enough about me. What's up with you? How's hell?"

"Hellish."

I giggle.

"I got a lot read today," He sighs. "I came up here to clear my head."

"Up? Oh, yeah! You're at the water tower, aren't you?"

"Technically I'm _on_ the water tower," He clarifies.

"Alone?"

He laughs. "No. I've got two hookers up here with me."

I roll my eyes. "Well I'm used to that being a make out spot!"

"For _you_ maybe. You and those lose morals, baby."

I giggle. "Oh _I've_ got the loose morals?

"Settle down over there! Jeesh, you on your period or something, babe?"

I gasp. "Paul Lahote! Don't you- actually," I pop up. "I totally am!"

We both burst out laughing.

"I- seriously I was kidding," He manages to gasp out between laughs.

"Good," I giggle. "I know you're right but I'm not about to have some guy use my hormones against me and be all disgusting and mocho and every time I'm upset about something shake your head at me and laugh about me PMS'ing."

"Babe," Paul laughs. "I promise you I was kidding."

"I know," I chuckle. "How's the water tower?" I take a deep breath. "How's the air up there?"

"The air?" Paul laughs.

"Yes, the air!" I giggle. "It's lighter up there. Like, if you closed your eyes long enough you could float."

"Hm. Well, I'm not flying but now that you mention it I do feel sort of floaty."

I giggle. "I'm at the beach. We're both apart of nature right now."

"The beach? Isn't it freezing?"

"I have a blanket."

"Scarlett," Paul moans. "Be careful, alright? And keep yourself warm."

"I miss you really bad," I am suddenly saying out of the blue. "Can you please come home?"

I hear him groan on the line. "Baby, don't ask me that. You know I can't say no to you."

"Please come home," I actually start crying now.

"Scarlett," His voice is broken and raw. "Don't cry. Please don't cry."

"I hate being away from you," I sob. "It's been four days. That's enough."

"Baby," Paul moans. "I miss you too. So much. But I'm not done yet."

"But I need you," I whimper.

"Scarlett," Paul sighs. "Relax, baby. Deep breaths, alright?"

I take three deep breaths before I reply. "Okay."

"I want you to really think about this. "Do you really need me home? Because if you do I'll come back. But I think I should finish what I came here to do and a few more days will be okay. But like I said, if you really need me back, I'll come back. Of course I'll come back."

I sigh. "I'm just being dramatic. I can handle it."

"Are you lying?"

"Not necessarily?"

"Scarlett," He scolds me.

"I think I can handle it, alright? I'm not sure. I'll be fine. We can't be that couple that can't be away from each other for a week. That's pathetic."

Paul chuckles. "We're not pathetic, sweetheart, we're just really fucking in love with each other."

I giggle. "That's very true."

"You know what," His voice suddenly picks up. "FaceTime me."

"Really?" I perk up. Though Paul and I have been calling each other multiple times a day, we have both been so busy that we haven't actually had any time to video chat. He calls me in the morning when I am sleeping and then at night when the lights are off. If there are any calls during the day they are quick and needy and usually while Paul is in my childhood house, which is not something that I have any desire to see again.

"Yes!" Paul answers. "If I have reception."

"Please have reception. Please have reception. Please have reception," I chant as we wait to see if the video will load. Suddenly, Paul's face pops up on my screen and I actually gasp.

"Paul!" I exclaim.

"Scarlett!" He laughs, and I seriously melt at finally being able to see his face when he says my name. "Hey, baby girl. You look fucking beautiful."

I giggle. " _Paul!_ I miss you! You're still crazy hot!"

He laughs- the sight is just as incredible as the sound. "What? Did you think that in a week it would go away?"

"I was hoping not!" I giggle.

"Ugh, that hair," He shakes his head and does that thing in the back of his throat that I know means he is turned on. I bite the corner of my lip. "Yes," He moans. "Blush. Ugh, blush baby."

"Paul!" I exclaim with a giggle. "Stop it! You're even more disturbing than usual!"

He laughs. "Sexy you mean?"

"You keep arguing with me about your dirty talk but the truth is that it is creepy yet totally alluring at the same time."

"Miss you sexy," He sits up and smiles at me.

"Miss you more," I rest my chin on my knee and smile at him.

Suddenly Paul is frowning. "Cover your shoulder."

I turn where he is staring to see that the blanket has fallen to my stomach on one side. I roll my eyes and pull it back up. "Better?"

"Much," He appears relieved.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asks.

"Watching Titanic and drowning myself in a bucket of high calorie ice cream. Then probably going on a run after when I freak out about becoming obese."

Paul rolls his eyes. "Impossible. Cool with the movie- not so cool about the midnight run."

"Cool about the sexiness- not so cool about the endless flirting from other chicks."

"You are fucking adorable," He laughs.

"I'm glad you think so," I rest my cheek against my knee.

"You okay?" He asks, that familiar line forming between his eyebrows in worry.

"I'm fine," I sigh. "I miss you. And all my friends are busy tonight. God, I swear I have never been this needy before. You made me needy, Paul Lahote."

He laughs easily. "My bad, Scarlett Rhodes."

"Call me baby girl," I frown and pick my head up.

"Oh, baby girl," He laughs. "You want to be called baby girl, sweetheart?"

I giggle. "Enough. You going back tonight?"

"I can't," He looks at me funny.

"She's volunteering at the church tonight. She does every Thursday night. I thought I told you that?"

He shakes his head.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry. The house should be empty"

"Don't be," He smiles. "Maybe I'll just go back there and sleep in your bed. It smells like you."

I smile guiltily. "I've gone through about every one of your shirts from your closet."

"I would be disappointed if you hadn't," He smiles.

We spend about an hour just talking to each other: about everything and nothing at the same time, before it begins to get dark and Paul basically demands that I get home before it gets completely black out.

When I get back to Paul's apartment, I half expect Embry to be there waiting to yell at me. When I unlock the door and he is nowhere to be found, I try to push down my disappointment and instead have a night of personal pampering.

I take a bath, read a few chapters from some of my favorite books, watch titanic (with ice cream of course), and then find a free yoga video on the TV and light some candles as I try to find my zen. When it comes time for bed, I actually feel pretty good about myself.

I make sure that Paul's bedroom door is cracked and then go over to close the window that is just a little bit cracked. Before I close it, though, I suddenly stop myself and slowly open it all the way. I pop my head out and hesitantly look around, expecting to see Embry, or at least hear him. After a few minutes of utter silence, I come to the conclusion that I am alone. And you know what; I think that that's a good thing.

The first thing that I do the next morning is check my phone to see if Embry texted.

Nothing.

Paul calls me twice and though I start to a few times, I decide to keep my therapy appointment to myself, until he gets back at least. I just don't feel like explaining it over the phone, and I don't want to talk about it before it is over and I have an opinion that I can actually put into words. To be honest, I am just really confused.

I decided that I wasn't going to go at least six to ten times before 10:50 came around and I realized two things: It is too late to cancel, and Embry is not coming. I am not sure how I feel about both of those things.

I change my outfit a few times before I just decide on a simple blue dress, a blazer and some high boots and leave my hair natural; I would at least prefer not to _look_ like a basket case. I am looking for my phone when I hear him.

"Princess, you ready to go or am I going to have to drag you there kicking and screaming?"

My eyes widen as I pop up. I reach for my phone that I just found underneath my bed and slowly walk down the stairs into the living room. Embry is standing by the island, the island that has a box of donuts and a coffee on it.

I stare at it for a second before looking back at him. He looks like Embry. Like stupid, annoying, awesome, mean Embry.

I blink at him.

"I half expected you to be in the fetal position on the floor," He smiles jokingly at me.

I don't laugh.

"Look," Embry sighs. "I'm sorry about calling you a bitch, alright? I didn't mean it. You're not a bitch, Scarlett."

"Yeah I know I'm not," I cross my arms and gulp. "It's fine. I've been called worse."

Embry winces and I suddenly feel awful.

"Okay, that was dramatic," I sigh.

"I tried to call you. And I got you donuts. A whole dozen just for yourself and if that's not love I don't know what is."

"Well, I'm late so,"

"Let's go! Loony doctor here we come!" He holds the door open for me and I roll my eyes and smack his arm as I step through the doorway, deciding that I'm not mad at him anymore.

When we get there I am handed a packet of paper on a clipboard and sit to fill it out.

"What's it say?" Embry pops his head out to read over my shoulder.

I narrow my eyes and turn the papers away. "You don't need to know how much I weigh, you idiot!"

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, 80 pounds is _so_ embarrassing."

I laugh. "Yeah, definitely not 80 pounds."

When I get to the second page I frown at the first question. I nudge Embry's shoulder. "It says 'reason for visit'."

We both widen our eyes at each other. My hand shakes over the lines. How the fuck do I write this?

Embry grabs the clipboard and pen out of my hands and then scribbles something down. He hands it back to me and I see his sloppy handwriting: _Childhood physical/mental abuse over the course of 15 yrs_.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Thanks," I mumble. He nods. Embry must have understood how impossible that was for me to write down.

The rest of the questions are honestly questionable.

"What are you looking to accomplish during treatment?" _Normalcy?_

I'm not even joking. That is literally what I wrote down.

"If trauma occurred, how do you think it affects your day to day life? _I don't even know what this question is asking,_ I frustratingly scrawl down.

I am already failing at this whole therapy thing.

"Scarlett?"

I jump up in my seat and come face to face with Nancy. She has on a black shirt and a huge multicolored skirt. Her hair and makeup are just like in her picture online. "You ready?" She smiles easily.

I freeze.

"She's ready." Embry shoves my shoulder.

I still remain idle.

"I will literally carry you in there," Embry whispers out of the corner of his mouth.

I stand abruptly.

Even the thought of that is so embarrassing it makes me blush.

Nancy smiles and holds the door open for me.

I wonder how I can walk when my knees are shaking so intensely.

"Sit wherever!" She smiles happily as she does to take a set in a bright red, cushiony chair in the center of the room.

"Wow," I say, unable to help myself. The entire room is filled with so much color I think I have to blink a few times not to get a headache.

"Not what you were, expecting, huh?" She crosses her legs casually.

I gulp. "N-not really," I clear my throat and then take a seat on the edge of the yellow couch. I sit up straight and fold my hands in my lap.

"Do you sit like that for a reason?" She asks suddenly.

My mouth drops. "What?"

She smiles. "I haven't looked at your papers yet," She points towards my clipboard. "But I bet you I know why you're here."

I frown. "How?"

She smiles. "What would you like to talk about today?"

My mouth drops. "Don't you want to look at these?" I hold up the clipboard.

She shakes her head. "I'll look at it after you leave. I'd like to get a good sense of you before I read that. I'm a different kind of therapist. You're you _because_ or sometimes _in spite_ of what happened to you. I don't need to know what is on that sheet. I just need to talk to you."

I gulp. "W-well. I'm Scarlett."

"Hi Scarlett," She smiles. "I'm Nancy. It's nice to meet you."

I nod.

"What would you like to talk about today?" She asks again.

I shrug.

"How about we talk about how you're sitting," She begins again.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She smiles. "You're sitting straight up. Your shoulders are so tightly pinned back; I am sure that hurts."

I actually laugh.

I let my shoulders fall and then seep into the couch cushions. "So what? You think I have authority figure problems."

"No?" She looks at me funny. "Do you?"

I chuckle. "Definitely not."

"That's what I thought," She laughs. "You've just been very groomed."

"Groomed?"

She nods. "You don't sit like that without being taught to, or being punished if you weren't."

I gulp. "How do you know this?"

She smiles. "I've been doing this for a long time. Would you like to talk about it?"

I shake my head.

"Fine! What would you like to talk about?"

"Paul."

My mouth drops.

What the hell?

"I-I have no idea why I just said that," I stammer.

She smiles. "You said what you were thinking. There's nothing wrong with that. Is Paul the man who brought you here today?"

"Oh," My eyes widen. "No! That's his friend. Well, he's my friend too- my best friend- well, I mean, he's kind of being a complete ass right now and I'm kind of mad at him but he- he, he's besides the point," I shake my head. "Paul's my boyfriend."

She nods. "Where is he?"

"He's-well-well. You know what- I can't explain it without going into… other stuff that I don't want to go into."

"That's quite alright. Just talk about Paul. Tell me where he is right now without worrying about explaining other parts of the story. Just talk about Paul."

I gulp. "Well. Paul's-Paul. Where do I start?"

"Wherever you would like."

I nod. "I met Paul the second day after I ran away."

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I have one page left.

Yesterday was brutal.

Fucking, fucking, fucking, fucking, _fucking_ brutal.

I read through four journals yesterday.

 _Four._

I got through another one today, and I have one single, terrible page left of the last journal that is only halfway full. Only half of her 17th year on this planet was spent getting the shit beat out of her.

Great.

I am sitting on the floor in the middle of her bedroom. Staring out the window and trying not to cry.

My heart had broke yesterday when she begged me to come home. Of course, the video chat helped, but I still wanted to reach out and hold her more than anything. The truth is, that I had lied to her. I don't need to be here for a total week because I need the time; I need to be here for a total week because I need to process everything that I have read. I can't go back to her like this… I can't.

I take a deep breath and pick up the journal.

It is titled the day before she moved to Forks.

 _The usual. (I'm done counting)_

 _I'm leaving today._

 _I never thought that this day would actually come. I never thought that they would actually let me go. I never ever ever thought. He likes hurting me too much. But I'm actually leaving. I wouldn't let myself get excited because I knew that it would please him much too much to take it away and watch my disappointment. But I'm leaving._

 _I am leaving!  
_

 _I AM LEAVING!_

 _I am actually leaving._

Wahoo!

My mouth actually drops. One word that I would have never expected in any of these journals is a "wahoo!".

This _is a new chance! I new chance at everything that I never got to do before. Everything that I was too afraid or too broken to try or to feel. I can't breathe. And this time it's not from bruises._

 _It has been so long since I have actually been excited about anything, but I am. I am going away, and even though I have no idea how long it's going to last, I know that I will at least get a few good months without being hurt. Without being scared. Without feeling terrified all the time and waiting for the other shoe to drop._

 _You know what I want? The only thing that I want? I just want to find a way to feel safe. And the only wish that I have is that if I do find that, I somehow am able to keep it forever._

 _A pretty impossible dream, right?_

 _Oh well. I guess that's why it's called a dream.  
_

 _Sincerely, The newly free Scarlett Rose Rhodes._

I stand up abruptly, tearing that page out of her journal and quickly cleaning everything up.

I know exactly what I need to do.

And I need to leave to do it.

The first place I go is to the hotel to grab my things, and then the next place that I go is to the bank. I have no idea what I am going to say, until suddenly I do. I walk up to her desk and see her roll her eyes up at me; she looks so much like Scarlett it is like deja-vu. She looks back down but then quickly does a double take.

I watch as her demeanor changes right before my very eyes. Her chest tilts towards me and her shoulders lean back and she presses her lips out. "Oh, hello."

I nearly throw up.

I sit down across from her and nod my head to myself, thinking of exactly what I need to say.

"Is there something that I can help you w-,"

"I know what you did to your daughter."

Her eyes widen and I notice her jaw tense. "Excuse me?"

I lean forward. "I know. What you did. To your daughter," I speak clearly.

She tilts her chin in the air and plasters a face smile on her overly makeup'd face. Actually, I was wrong. I was _dead_ wrong. She looks _nothing_ like Scarlett. Surely she has the same features, but those features are nothing without life behind them. It is the life and the love and the innocence of Scarlett that makes her so beautiful.

This woman is ugly.

"My daughter is staying with her aunt right now and attending a more academically challenging school. Did you know her?"

I shake my head at her. "I know where she is. I know where she really is. And I know why she really left."

Her face falls and she suddenly leans towards me. "What do you want?" She is looking around frantically as if to be sure that no one hears her.

My mouth parts. "I don't want anything," I shake my head at her. "How could you let that happen to your daughter?"

"I didn't do anything," She speaks clearly. "And you have no proof."

"Maybe you didn't do anything but you let it happen. That was _your_ daughter. You let that bastard hurt her. Every day. Every damn day. What is wrong with you?"

She lets out a deep breath and looks from side to side. "What do you want? What will make this go away?"

"Nothing," I retort. "Nothing will _ever_ make this go away. Scarlett is going to have to live with that for the rest of her life. Do you understand that? She is going to have to stare at scars and remember how she got them. She is going to have to tell her own daughter one day that her own mother never loved her. She-," I break to take a deep breath and get back on track. "She will never forget what happened to her, but I want you to know that she is fine. She is better than fine. She is _happy._ Scarlett is surrounded by love, so much love that a person like you couldn't possibly understand. And I am going to make sure that she doesn't spend any day questioning her worth, or her value, or how perfect she is for the _rest_ of her life." I stand as her mouth drops open.

"I'm not going to tell anyone. Both of us know that it's already over. But if you ever contact her again, in any way, I swear to you that I will send you to jail faster than I can snap my fingers."

"S-She wouldn't do that," She spits, and I finally see who she really is behind that fake face.

"No, see, you don't know her anymore. Scarlett is strong. Stronger than you will ever be, and she wouldn't think twice. So you stay away from her, and in the mean time, I want you to know that she is having the best, happiest, most incredible life, while you live a fake, miserable existence. You'll take that secret to your grave but I promise you you're going to hell."

I turn with as much self control as I can muster and walk out of the bank with my hands in fists to tightly I am drawing blood from my palms.

Scarlett's stepfather, now, I did that for me. The torture, I mean; I did it because I had to; but this, _this_ I did all for Scarlett, which is probably why I don't feel guilty at all.

My next stop takes only about an hour.

I really thought it would take longer; a few more places maybe, but I saw it and I just saw her and I just knew.

It was made for my Scarlett.

And it was done.

Next, I lost all my money on the ticket that was supposed to be for this weekend and got a new one for the soonest flight out tonight- but I don't care about money.

I am a ball of nerves the entire flight.

I actually tell the woman sitting next to me because I can't stop talking.

It is dark now as I drive to my apartment.

I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans as I take a deep breath at the front door.

It's Scarlett.

It's _my_ Scarlett.

She will probably panic.

It's fine.

Just- remember it's Scarlett.

She won't mean it.

It's just a trained response to freak out.

Alright.

I can do this.

I open up the door to find it completely empty.

I frown.

Not apart of the plan.

I notice her beach bag on the floor next to the bed and take a gamble, hoping that it pays off.

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

I miss Paul.

I miss Paul and he hasn't called me in hours. _Hours_ _I tell you!_

"Ugh!" I moan as I lie down on the beach. I am freezing but it isn't enough to distract me from the fact that I am a boiling ball of hormones and sadness. I don't even care about being the type of girl who needs her boyfriend all the time anymore, I just want him, damn it!

The therapy session actually went better than I thought it would. We talked about Paul, and through Paul I gave away what had happened to me and why he was there. She recommended sessions twice a week. I decided that I'll go once, because I am quite sure those types of people are taught to say one day extra a week to get more money- hey, I like her but I don't trust her yet.

I check my phone one more time and then sit up with a groan when I see that Paul _still_ hasn't called me.

Stop being so needy, Scarlett.

I stand up, brush the sand off of my dress, and then turn to leave.

I have officially lost it.

I drop the blanket from around my shoulders and my book out of my hand too and I rub my eyes.

"I am hallucinating."

And then he laughs.

He freaking laughs.

And I know it's him.

"Paul!" I exclaim, sprinting over to him at high speed, which is pretty ridiculous and involves me falling a few times because it's the beach with sand that is really tricky for a clumsy person to sprint through. I finally get to him and throw myself in his arms.

"Oh, Paul!" I moan once his arms are finally around me. I take greedy, deep breaths of his scent so intensely that I swear I may pass out.

I am so shocked and in such a state of bliss with his warm body touching me that it takes me a moment to think straight again. "Wait!" I gasp and pull away from him. "Why are you here?"

Paul smiles and then sets me down. He takes a step away from me and my face drops.

He reaches into his pocket and then pulls out a small black box.

He opens it up, smiles down at it, and then turns it towards me.

A thin band with a large, blue stone stares back at me.

"Marry me."

I gasp.

* * *

OKAY- AHHH! Thoughts!?


	35. You're My Home

Hi guys! Big chapter ahead! It starts with Scarlett's POV for a little and then the rest is in Paul's! Enjoy!

PS: Sorry about being really bad with replying to reviews lately! I promise that I read ALL of your reviews and they truly make my day! I've just been crazy busy with school and even finding time to write is hard enough, lol! Anyways, I love your reviews and appreciate all the support:)

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

My heart is beating a thousand times a minute.

Wait- it just stopped.

I was wrong. My heart isn't beating at all. In a momentary moment of pure panic, I attempt to focus all of my attention on my heartbeat, listening for a pump and begging it to happen at the same time.

"Scarlett?"

I switch my wide eyes over to Paul's and meet his in an instant of confused terror.

"Breathe," He says slowly and then laughs a little bit. "Scarlett, breathe."

I inhale a giant gasp of breath and then press my hand to my chest as I inhale greedy gulps. "Whoa," I mumble, breathless.

"Whoa," Paul smiles. He pushes the box towards me again and I jump away. "Marry me," He says again, not at all seeming deterred.

My mouth drops; hearing it a second time didn't take away the shock factor. "Wh-what?"

Paul's lips pull overtop of his shimmering, white teeth and suddenly his mesmerizing smile is practically stealing my heart from right out of my chest and pulling it out of my throat and resting in a platter in his hands.

"Marry me," He says once more.

"Paul," I breathe and then shake my head. "No."

A line forms between his eyebrows as he frowns. "Yes." Paul takes a step closer to me.

I gasp. "No!"

He grabs me around the waist and pulls me to him. My breath catches in my throat. "Yes," He growls at me.

"N-no," My voice quivers. Paul's lips twitch up into a smile when he notices how uncertain my voice is now.

"Yes," He whispers into my ear, his voice soft and enticing now. I shiver.

"N- no! Ugh, Paul! What is wrong with you?" I finally come to my senses and shove him away. "Why would you ask me something like that?"

He has an amused smirk on his face as he crosses his arms.

"Alright," Paul sighs and rolls his sleeves up. "Fine."

"What?" I squeak.

"I was expecting a fight," He shakes his head. "So fine. You want to fight this out. You go first. Yell at me, call me crazy, say all this ridiculous nonsense about why you can't marry me, that's fine. But I'm going to win."

My mouth drops. "I'm not going to get in an argument with you about _marriage_ Paul!"

"Why not?" He laughs.

"B-B-because! This is- you're- you are crazy! You are _crazy!_ "

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are! What the hell is wrong with you? You can't just ask me that!"

"As opposed to what? Texting you it?"

"Paul! No!"

"Scarlett! Yes!"

"No," I whimper. "Just- no."

He closes the distance between us and I all but pass out right in the sand.

"Paul," I complain, my voice barely strong enough to say without falling into him. He smells so good… so Paul, and I missed him so much.

"Scarlett," He smiles down at me, his eyes deep with emotion and a tenderness that makes my heart flutter. He runs his fingers down my back and I am forced to close my eyes for a moment.

"Just kill me instead," I complain. "It would be easier."

He laughs gently. "Baby. Kiss me."

I melt. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

He presses his lips gently into mine and I moan into his mouth, too overtaken to care about embarrassing myself.

"Marry me." He pulls away.

"Paul," I complain.

"Kiss me."

"Okay."

I kiss him again and feel myself beginning to spin off balance.

"Marry me," He breathes in my mouth.

I moan again. "Okay."

I feel him smile against my lips. "Okay?"

"Okay."

I have officially lost my damn mind.

"Give me your hand."

My mouth drops. "I take it back! This isn't happening! No! No way!"

Paul laughs. "You don't want to marry me?"

"Of course I do!" I blush.

He cups my face between his hands and kisses me softly. "Than do it. I'm tired of you stopping yourself from doing things that will make you happy, because that is _all_ that you deserve. If you want to marry me, than do it."

"Yeah, well, Paul," I mumble and roll my eyes. "That's great and all, but everyone is going to think that I'm pregnant."

Paul giggles. "You want to be?"

I gasp. " _No!_ " I screech.

He winces at the sheer high-pitched tone of my voice.

"Okay, okay," Paul chuckles as he rubs his hands up and down my arms. "No babies. Got it."

"Wh-where you really confused about that?" I stammer.

"I was pretty sure it was a no but I was just making sure."

"Oh."

"So can I have your hand now?"

"No."

He sighs, closes the box, and puts the ring back into his pocket. "Maybe later."

"Maybe never."

Paul's face drops. "So you don't want to marry me anymore?"

I cock my head to the side and look at him funny. "Of course I'll marry you. I already said fine I'm not just going to take it back! But I don't see the point in wearing a ring. Or telling anyone for that matter."

He rolls his eyes. "So you do want to marry me, but you don't want anyone to know?"

"Precisely!"

"You know what," He sighs. "You're being ridiculous. But it's kind of adorable and I fucking love you, so lets go back to my place so we can have celebratory engagement sex."

I gasp as I feel heat rise up on my cheeks. "Paul Lahote!"

He laughs and pulls me up into the air and then starts spinning me around.

"Paul!" I squeal.

"I can't help it! You're marrying me! A sweet, sexy little blonde girl is marrying me! What the fuck is happening?"

I giggle and let my arms wrap around his neck as he slowly lowers me back towards the ground. Only, I wrap my legs around his waist and hold myself tightly to him.

"Are we really doing this?" I ask. "Are you really here? Am I dreaming? Or, like, hallucinating or something?"

Paul laughs and presses my hair to the sides of my head. "You're not hallucinating. Ugh, I fucking missed you, Scarlett."

My eyes soften. "I missed you so much, Pauley. You have no idea. How are you here?"

"I realized something while I was there," He strokes his finger along the side of my cheek and kisses me softly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I realized that it doesn't matter what happened to you."

I frown. "What? I thought that was the whole point of you going and leaving me for an extended period of time and making me miserable."

He rolls his eyes. "Well of course it matters, but not how you think. It doesn't matter to _us_. All that I need to do is make you feel safe every day for the rest of my life, Scarlett. Nothing else matters, as long as I can do that."

My lips pull up into a timid smile. "Paul," I begin.

"I know that I didn't… protect you from your stepfather when I should have."

I gulp. "Paul, you couldn't have-,"

"Stop," He says gently, kissing me timidly. "But that will never happen again. No one is ever going to touch you again, aside from me. And when I touch you all that I am going to make you feel is good. Do you understand, baby? I promise you that. You will be safe with me for the rest of your life. Got it?"

I smile. "I think so."

"And when I realized that, I just knew that I had to come back here. Ugh, I have so much that I need to say to you, but I can't think when I'm touching you after not having been with you for five days."

I giggle. "Take me home, Lahote."

His arms tighten around me. "Always."

As soon as we burst through his apartment doors we are all over each other. We aren't thinking, just feeling, and suddenly my pants are off and my head is spinning and we don't even have time to take my top off or Paul's clothes off as he sits me up on the kitchen counter and pushes himself inside of me.

I gasp and press my hand to his chest, my eyes closed and mouth hanging open. Holy _shit_. It has been too long since I have felt him inside of me. I can feel him pulsating, so hard and honestly just huge.

"Scarlett," Paul cups my cheeks in his hands and strokes his thumbs along my skin. "Did I hurt you, baby?"

I chuckle. "No."

"Can I keep going?" His voice sounds pained.

"Please," I breathe.

He pushes in and out, timid at first, but after a few more thrusts and a whole lot of moaning and shoulder clawing on my end, he loses himself again. I throw my head back and let Paul Lahote have his way with me, making me feel a pleasure that I didn't even think was possible before he came along.

We cum at the same time, which is why it is pretty incredible that Paul has time and actually remembers to pull out, though my head is cloudy and my ears are ringing too much to actually notice.

"Ugh, Scarlett," Paul drops his face into my chest and I just focus on breathing like a normal person again.

He lifts me into his arms and walks us upstairs into the bedroom. He rests me underneath the covers and then is more gentle this time as he peels my clothes off of me. Every time that a fabric is removed he kisses the skin that it once covered, until suddenly he is kissing my breasts and that spot right between my legs and my back is arched and my legs are shaking again.

"Mmm, Paul," I say, closing my eyes and pulling the covers to my chest.

He smiles widely and pulls me to his chest. "I missed you, baby," He whispers, his voice sexy and deep, into my ear.

"Paul," I murmur with my eyes closed.

"Are you going to sleep?" He rubs my shoulder gently and then kisses it.

"No," I sigh. "I'm just enjoying my moment of bliss. I swear this is what heaven feels like."

He laughs gently into my ear. " _You're_ my heaven, Scarlett."

I sigh. " _You're_ dramatic, Paul."

I roll towards him and then offer him a small, only slightly embarrassed smile. I grasp the covers tighter to my naked body as I reach for his chest. "Take this off," I frown.

He lifts it overtop of his chest and throws it across the room; my fingers skim the top of his waistband. "And these."

Paul kisses me deeply and then tugs off his pants and underwear, leaving them to the same fate as his poor shirt.

"Much better," I blush and hug him tightly.

"Ugh, Scarlett," He moans and kisses my head. His fingers find their way into my hair as he breathes against my forehead. "I'm so happy to be back."

"I'm happy that you are back," I kiss his chest timidly. "What was your trip like?"

His arms tighten around me. "Enlightening," He sighs.

I pull away just a little and lift my eyes to meet his. He looks down at me with pain behind his eyes. "Paul," I frown and touch his cheek. "It's over now."

"I know," He shakes his head. "But you were in hell, Scarlett." He shakes his head angrily. "I just don't understand it. He was a monster."

I sigh. "I know."

"So much… pain. Baby," He strokes my cheek and kisses me tenderly. "I'm so sorry that, that happened to you."

"You didn't do anything," I argue. "No reason to be sorry."

"You were so little," He shakes his head. "So… innocent."

I gulp. "Don't feel bad for me, Paul. You _promised._ "

"I know what I promised but it's easier said than done."

I let out a long breath. "Let's not talk about it."

He kisses my collarbone. "I agree. How did your week go?"

I perk up. "I did something that will make you happy."

"You did?" He bounces me.

I nod. "I went to therapy."

Paul's eyes widen. "You did?"

I roll my eyes at the surprise in his tone. "Is it really that hard to believe?"

"Well, n-," He begins to say no but then stops himself. I roll my eyes again. "When?"

"Today."

"How was it?" He asks softly.

"It was therapy," I giggle. "But I didn't cry. And I didn't freak out. And we really didn't talk about _him_."

"Well that sounds like fun. Sign me up for therapy!"

I shove his chest. "Shut up," I giggle.

Paul kisses behind my ear and I sigh contently. "Did you ask about the thing?" He whispers into my ear.

"Shhh," I turn towards him and kiss him again. "We have five days to make up for, Lahote. Talking is great but I don't want to talk anymore." I kiss him softly and then hear him moan in the back of his throat.

"Fuck," He mumbles as he rolls on top of me and begins kissing my neck.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

I hand her a glass of orange juice that I just went to grab for her and she blushes and takes it. I can imagine she needs it after the exertion. I think I win the world record for making your girlfriend cum the most times in ten minutes.

"Thanks," She whispers as she takes a hesitant sip.

I smile and get into bed next to her. I tug the covers down to see her perfect, naked body and shake my head at the sight.

"Do you understand how perfect you are? I mean, do you get it? Does it connect in your mind?"

She rolls her bright blue eyes. Oh, how I've missed those eyes. "You're not too bad yourself."

I hug her tightly.

"Paul!" She laughs, her voice slightly panicked. I pull away and then take the orange juice that almost spilled out of her hands and set it on the side table next to the bed.

"Ugh, I can't believe I get to sleep with you tonight!" I kiss her shoulder.

Scarlett smiles shyly. "It was hard sleeping without you," She admits.

I squint at her. "Did you have any panic attacks?" I ask her gently as I begin playing with the ends of her nearly white hair.

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot."

"Oh?"

She pops up and then quickly tugs my tee-shirt onto her from off of the ground, and goes to grab something out of a bag across the room. She jumps back into bed and throws it at me.

"Here."

I look down at the small, orange bottle and pick it up to inspect it. **Fluvoxamine** is written out in bold, thick letters. _Take one tablet every 6 hours._ I raise my eyebrows at her.

"Are you trying to tell me that you're doing drugs now?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "No, you idiot. They're from the psychiatrist. For my panic attacks."

My mouth parts. "How do you feel about that?" I ask after a moment.

Scarlett shrugs. "Fine I guess."

I shake the bottle gently and then stare at the tiny, white pills. "Are you going to take them?"

"Maybe," She shrugs again and then grabs the bottle out of my hands. "Look," She points her finger at a small section of writing on the back. "Common side effects include nausea, vomiting, dizziness, increased sweating, weakness, insomnia, and anxiety," She reads back.

"Hm," Is all I can think to say. "Did the doctor say these are safe?"

She nods. "She said I'll just have to watch out for them. So, I guess you should, too."

I smile at her. "I can do that. But I don't really want any of this to happen to you, Scar. Did she say how common they are?"

"She said not common."

"But on the back it says common."

"Why did you ask the question if you already had an answer?" She narrows her eyes at me.

"I don't know!" I laugh. "I just don't want you taking something that will make you throw up and get anxiety!"

"Well it's better than having a panic attack, I guess," She sighs.

I nod. "When are you supposed to take these?"

"She said that since I usually have them at night I should just take one with food before bed."

I nod. "Are you going to take one tonight?"

She shrugs.

"Have you tried them yet?"

She shakes her head.

"Are you nervous?"

"Perhaps," Scarlett sighs. "Maybe- yes- no- I don't know, okay!"

I force myself not to laugh at her. "Well I am glad that you talked to her about it, though. I'm proud of you."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, thanks."

"So was it terrible?" I lean closer to her.

"What?"

"The… session." I run my fingers through the side of her hair as she shifts her eyes away from me.

It takes her a while to respond. "It was… weird. I told her that I have no interest diving into what happened to me. I don't need to accept it, or forgive them, or analyze what they did. I just want to move on. I don't care if that's not normal. _I'm_ not normal, and I know it's what I need."

I smile down at her, proud of her in a way that I know she would never understand if I tried to explain it. Just the fact that Scarlett has become so confident in what she knows she wants and needs; it's incredible after everything that she has been through.

"And what did she think of that?"

Scarlett finally looks at me, her eyes honest and open. I live for the moments when she looks at me like this. "She said that was fine," Scarlett smiles a little bit. "It surprised me. I always just figured therapy was this psychoanalyzing, dive into the deepest parts of your minds and create problems that were never really there in the first place but suddenly consume your life kinda thing, but this just… wasn't."

"No?" My lips pull up at the corners. "What did you talk about?"

"You," She blushes, suddenly looking embarrassed.

"Me?" I laugh. "Oh no, were you talking smack about me?"

She giggles and rolls her eyes. "No, Lahote. I just talked about you and about us and then it kind of bled into some things that I wanted to work on with myself."

I nod my head slowly. "Yeah?" I ask, gentler this time.

"Yeah," Scarlett whispers. "She said that because of what happened to me, it could affect certain feelings I have or things that I do today, or issues that I have in our relationship."

"What kind of issues do you have?" I frown at her.

Scarlett reddens. "That's personal," She mumbles.

"Oh." I know that I shouldn't- it's _her_ therapy. I have no right to be hurt by her not sharing the details, but I can't help myself.

"Not like that," Scarlett quickly places her soft, little hand on my shoulder. "It's not issues that I have with _us_ , it's sort of, issues that I have with me. It's hard to explain."

I drop my head and kiss her right in the curve of her neck. "I don't want you to have any issues with yourself," I breathe into her skin. "You are perfect."

"Oh please," She sighs. "So not true."

"Fine. Maybe you're right. But I wouldn't be your Lahote if I didn't believe it was. Right?"

She giggles. "That is true." I can't help but notice how her voice noticeably softens.

"Good," I pull away from her with a wide smile. "Now maybe you'll stop arguing with me."

"Never going to happen," Scarlett giggles and then wraps her arms around my neck. "We talked about my reactions to things," She admits.

I am momentarily surprised that she shared this without me having to ask, but I quickly regain a face of understanding. "You did?"

"Mhm," She nods. "She said that… because of what happened… intimacy is hard for me. But not just physical," She blushes. "All kinds."

I run my hand along the top of her head. "Yeah, well, I could have told you that, sweetie."

"Shut up," She laughs and shoves me half-heartedly.

"You want to know what else she said?" Scarlett actually seems excited.

I can't help but beam at her. "Tell me!"

"She also said that she's never met someone like me before," She suddenly looks rather shy. "And I know she was probably just saying that, but she said for all the years that I lived through that type of… treatment, I was exceptionally well rounded, and, well, normal." She blushes. "I don't know. It kind of made me feel good."

I wrap my arms around her back and pull her into a tight hug. It's funny, but I don't think I've ever seen Scarlett proud of herself before.

"Of course she's never met someone like you before," I whisper into her ear as I rub my hand up and down her back. "You're incredible. Any other person wouldn't have been able to live through what you did. But you did. _You did._ And you're an amazing person, too."

"Thanks," She blushes and falls back down onto the mattress. Scarlett swipes a piece of hair off of her lip and onto her shoulder. "And she was impressed with the fact that I have such a healthy relationship."

"You think I'm healthy?" I raise my eyes teasingly at her.

"I was thinking the same thing," She bursts out laughing. "I guess I'll just let her believe that we're not super fucked up."

"Shhh," I laugh and kiss her softly. "We have a great relationship, Scar." "I know," She sighs. "I was just kidding."

"So do you think you're going to go back to see her?" I ask.

Scarlett purses her lips and thinks for a moment. "I think I just might. She said that if I deal with some of the effects of what happened to me in my childhood now, that they wouldn't affect my relationship in the future. I'm not looking to screw this thing up, so I'll probably go back."

I laugh. "I won't let you screw anything up," I kiss her again. "You're mine and that's that. Whether you like it or not."

"That sounds so creepy," Scarlett giggles.

"That's just what happens when you sleep with Scarlett Rhodes." I pretend to bite her neck and she laughs and pushes me away.

"Oh, and that's another thing."

"Hm?" I ask as I nibble on her shoulder.

"I'm changing my last name."

I raise my head away from her with wide eyes. "Really?"

She nods.

"To what?" I am barely able to hide the laughter in my voice. I seriously think Scarlett just forgot that we are getting married.

"I don't know yet," She sighs. "Probably something close to Rhodes. I just don't want to associate with those people anymore. Yes they are my biology, but they were never my parents. She suggested it."

"Who?"

"My therapist," Scarlett blushes.

"Oh, right," I smile down at her apologetically. "Well," I sigh, pretending to get really serious for a moment. "I hate to burst your pretty little Scarlett bubble," I poke her forehead. "But you do realize that you're _marrying_ me, right? Are you not planning on taking my name?"

"Oh." Scarlett's eyes widen. "I honestly forgot about that."

I burst out laughing. "You suck at being a girl sometimes, you know that? What, you never sat around doodling 'Scarlett Lahote' in a notebook?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Scarlett fights laughter. "I was too busy trying to sort through prior childhood trauma and fight against it to actually _be_ with you to worry about what your last name sounds like as my own."

I smile, suddenly giddy. I hadn't even thought of that. "Scarlett Lahote," I speak proudly.

She giggles. "It actually sounds surprisingly good," She shrugs and nods her head.

"Good?" I gasp. "It's like you were made to be a Lahote!"

Scarlett giggles. "I kind of was. Remember how you imprinted on me and stole my free will?" She wraps her arms around my neck.

"Can't recall that specific moment because I'm pretty sure that's not what happened at all. Thanks for making it creepy, though."

"Sorry I'm not romantic," Scarlett giggles.

My shoulders shake as I laugh loudly. I kiss her mid-laugh. "That's okay," I chuckle. "I like that about you. And you _are_ romantic. Just in your own, sexy way."

"Well," Scarlett sighs. "At least the last name situation is taken care of now. Were you listening in on my session or something? Is that why you asked me to marry you?"

"Scarlett," I sigh and shake my head, and then wrap my arms around her back and pull her up, closer to me. "I asked you to marry me because I never want to live a day without you. And because you are, by far, the strongest, bravest human being that I have ever met, or will ever meet."

Her face breaks out into a wide smile. "You know what," She sighs. "Yeah, I am pretty brave."

I laugh and kiss her deeply. "The bravest," I manage to breathe into her open mouth, right before she pulls me on top of her, and we are quickly back to doing what we do best.

* * *

"So, we should probably go tell my mom we're getting married," I tell her as I watch her strategically place the peperoni's for our homemade pizza. Fuck; how does she even make _that_ adorable?

Suddenly her hands freeze mid-air. I lift my eyes to see a terrified set of blue ones staring straight back at me.

"Why?" She asks slowly.

"Why?" I laugh. "Ugh, because we're getting _married_ and I think my mother needs to know."

"W-well," She suddenly appears nervous. "I am not going to be able to walk right for at least a day. I can't see your mom walking from side to side because her son had sex with me too many times."

I burst out laughing. "I could carry you?"

Scarlett moans. "You already asked me to marry you at the tender age of 18. Why are you doing this to me?"

"Scarlett," I drop my head into my hands and shake it as I laugh to myself. "Doing what to you?"

"Why do we have to tell _everyone_ ," She rolls her eyes.

"Everyone?" My mouth drops. "It's my _mother_ , Scarlett! And again… we're getting _married,_ so I don't really think that should be your worry, sweetheart."

"I know that!" She argues back. "Obviously! But _I'm_ the one getting married, I don't understand why the entire world has to know it too."'

I shake my head at her. "I truly, _truly_ would pay a million dollars to just understand your thought processes for five seconds."

She giggles. "Maybe I'll write an engagement journal for you, too."

"Perfect," I wink at her.

"Engaged," Scarlett repeats the word and then lets out a long, deep breath. "Wow."

"Good wow?" I ask.

"Weird wow," She admits.

"So, back to what you were saying a second ago," I cross my arms and cock my head at her, so ready to see her response to this one. "Are we just not going to tell my mom we're getting married or what?"

Scarlett sighs. "If we have to," She mutters.

My shoulders shake as I laugh quietly to myself.

"I just don't understand why everyone has to know," She sighs again and then removes all of the pepperoni, not seeming pleased, just to start over once more.

"Sweetheart, how exactly do you plan on planning a wedding without anyone knowing?"

"Why can't we just plan it and then have everyone come?" She asks.

"We can do that," I reassure her.

"Great. Than there's no need to tell anyone else."

"Scarlett," I laugh. "I'll plan the whole thing with you, but I am going to have to put my foot down on telling the woman who gave birth to me that we're engaged to be married."

"Why can't we just plan it and then invite her over? They'd all know then!"

I chuckle. "You think you can plan an entire wedding without anyone knowing?"

Scarlett's eyes light up. "A secret wedding!" She suddenly exclaims, jumping over to me and dropping the entire bag of pepperoni on the floor in the process.

"Paul!" She squeals and clasps her hands on my shoulders. "This is _perfect_!"

I look at her like she has just lost her mind. "A… secret wedding?"

"Yes!" She jumps up and down again. "We could just invite everyone over for dinner but instead of eating dinner get married."

I shake my head at her. "You have lost your mind, sweetheart."

She giggles ecstatically. "I'm telling you this would be the best thing ever."

"We're not having a secret wedding, babe," I loop my arm around her lower back. "That makes it seem like we're doing something wrong."

"Not at all," She rolls her eyes. "It just makes it exciting and not stupid."

"So where do you plan on doing this _secret_ wedding?" I scratch my head.

She scrunches his eyebrows at me. "What?"

"Like, the venu," I clarify.

"What's a venu?"

I rub my face with my hands. "We're not getting married in my kitchen, Scarlett."

I see the wheels turning. She opens her mouth again.

"Or Nessie's," I interrupt before she has a chance to finish.

Scarlett's face falls and then she rolls her eyes and slinks away from me.

"Scarlett," I reach for her waist and then pull her back to me. "Why don't you want a wedding? Hm?" I sweep all of her hair behind her back and then kiss her shoulder. "You're kind of hurting my feelings."

She turns, her face shocked and quite mortified. "What? No! I didn't mean to do that."

"I know," I smile and pull her close to me.

"I'm just not into it: a big wedding," She blushes. "And… I don't have anyone to, like… invite."

I try. I really, really try to keep my face impassive, but it is impossible.

Scarlett moans and pushes away from me. "I don't want your pity, Paul."

"I'm not pitying you," I pull her back, locking my arms around her. "I love you."

"I love you too," She sighs. "Which is why I don't understand why it can't just be about _that_. I'd marry you at Jake's garage during your lunch break if you were cool with that."

My face breaks out into a smile. "That was oddly romantic, Scarlett."

She rolls her eyes.

"So," I sigh. "You want a small wedding."

"No," She smiles widely. "I want a no wedding."

I laugh. "Babe. We have to have a wedding."

"Why?" She moans, flipping her blonde hair behind her back dramatically.

"Well," I think about it for a second. "Well- I don't know! It's just what people do!"

"Okay," She crosses her arms. "And if people started jumping off of a bridge would you jump too?"

"Babe, I really don't think having a wedding is the same thing as giving into peer pressure."

"But you're not even listening to what I want," She pouts.

"I am listening to you!" I laugh, "But you're being unreasonable. We can't not have a wedding. I'm sorry, but I want one."

She blows some hair out of her eyes and somehow manages to roll them at the same time. Scarlett cocks her hip to the side as she thinks. After about a full minute she finally moans and then narrows her eyes at me. "I can honestly think of nothing worse than walking down an isle with everyone staring at me in a church with a bunch of girls in ugly pink dresses!"

I can't contain my laughter anymore.

"This is not funny," She mumbles angrily as she turns to leave.

"Babe," I reach for her hand and pull her back. "Come back."

"I have a say in this too, you know!" She argues.

"I know, I know," I rub my hands against the top of her back and she relaxes a little. "What do you want? Really?"

"Can't we just, like, get the license?" She shrugs.

I can't help my face from falling. "Really, Scar? You don't want to have a wedding with me?"

Scarlett sighs, and from the way that she immediately diverts her eyes I know that, that isn't what is actually going on.

"What is it?" I ask gently, kissing her on the temple. "The truth. You can tell me anything."

Scarlett lets out a long, steadying breath. "It's just- I just- I never even thought I would ever _date_ someone seriously. The thought of a big wedding freaks me out.

I stare at her. "But that's not it," I state rather than ask.

She looks at the ground.

"Tell me," I push. "Please?"

"This is stupid," She pulls away.

"No it's not," I grab her hands and bring her back to me. "Talk to me."

Scarlett gnaws on the inside of her cheek nervously. "I don't have anyone to walk me down the aisle, okay?"

And there it is.

I see her face turn red from embarrassment and immediately kiss her. I don't doubt that everything else that Scarlett said about hating weddings and having no desire to tell everyone is true, but I also know that if she had someone to walk her down the aisle, there is a good chance she would do it for me; that fact right there is exactly why she is being so adamant.

"You don't need anyone to walk you," I tell her.

"Stop it," She moans.

"You don't! People do it all the time!"

"Whatever."

I sigh. "You don't think you would have fun planning it with Nessie? You could design it all, and pick the color scheme."

Scarlett's eyes widen in horror. "I can honestly say that I would rather jump into an erupting volcano. Paul, I want to marry you, not one hundred of your closest friends."

I roll my eyes. "Now you're just being dramatic."

"I'm highly dramatic," She nods her head. "Get used to it."

"Yeah I'll see what I can do," I mutter.

"Re-thinking marrying me, yet?"

I roll my eyes again and laugh. "Why? You hoping?"

"No," Scarlett giggles, turning back to the pizza. "So," She looks down at the mound of pepperoni's on the ground. "Looks like we're having cheese."

"What if we just had a small wedding. Like a _really_ small wedding."

"Paul," Scarlett moans. "Drop it."

"Drop our marriage?" I laugh, slightly shocked.

"Not our marriage! I'm excited for the marriage part, just not the wedding part." She shivers as if just saying the word spooked her.

"Fine," I sigh. "Why don't we pick a date? I think we can do that without arguing."

"A date?" She raises her eyebrows at me.

I stare at her for a moment as she challenges my gaze right back. "Yes, a date," I speak slowly.

Scarlett frowns. "Can't we just, like, pick a weekend and go do it?"

"You know what!" I stand up straight and shake my head at her. "Would you let me give you a romantic wedding day and stop being so difficult?"

"I hate planning stuff like this!" She pouts.

I chuckle. "When's the last time you planned a wedding? Please, enlighten me."

Scarlett purses her lips. "Fine. The weekend after graduation."

My mouth drops. "What?"

"I can't get married before I graduate from high school, Paul!" She throws her hands up and rolls her eyes. "Jesus! Can you just let me have a little bit of normalcy for once!"

"What? Scarlett, no. That's not- I mean, babe, you graduate next weekend."

She blinks at me. "Yeah?"

"We can't just get married two weekends from now!" I exclaim.

"Why not?" Her mouth parts.

"Because, because," I run my fingers through my hair. "We just can't!"

"Well when would you like to get married?" She squints her eyes and shakes her head at me, obviously annoyed.

"Ugh, June? I don't know! Isn't that the normal amount of time it takes to plan a wedding?"

"June?" Scarlett's jaw practically hits the floor. "That's- that's- that's, that's like eight months! Why did you even propose if you're going to wait eight months to do it? That doesn't even make any sense! Don't you even want to marry me?"

"Yes! Of course I do!" I laugh and rub my jaw. "But weren't you the one who just almost went into shock when I proposed to you, and then had to be convinced to actually accept."

Scarlett giggles. "Well, now that I've committed, I'm ready! Why wait?"

I shake my head at her. "I- I don't know what we're going to do, love. I'm not going to marry you in a courthouse; I'm not doing it. You deserve much more than that, but you're obviously not interested in a wedding," My voice trails off.

Scarlett sighs and rests her back against the cabinets. "Alright," She speaks after a moment, her voice much more collected now. "I _will_ have a wedding with you."

I smile. "There's my girl."

"But not like you're thinking," She points her finger accusingly at me.

Goodbye smile.

"I'll do the whole dress thing but I _refuse_ to wear white. And I'll pick a nice location but I will not, under any circumstances get married in a church. Andwecanhaveguests," She mumbles that last part.

I laugh, knowing exactly what she just said. "What was that?"

Scarlett narrows her eyes at me. "We can have guests."

"I'm sorry, I'm not quite catching that. One more time?" I lean forward.

"You can bring people!" She explodes. "But only family and close friends!"

"Done!" I smile brightly.

"And no bridesmaids or groomsmen," She shivers at the thought.

"Fine."

"And I'm not doing the whole production of it. Short and sweet, okay?"

"Can't wait," I smile at her.

"And I'm not planning in advance."

My eyes widen as my head bobs. "Babe," I hold out the word. "I don't even know if that's possible."

"No!" She holds her hand up to stop me. "That's something I'm serious about! I love you, and I want to be free to just marry you any day that I want to, at any time. Planning ruins things! And I have to get this marriage thing right."

I sigh. "Fine," I finally give a little, "But the one condition is that everyone that I want to invite has to be available, or you have to pick a different day."

"Fine." Scarlett smiles. "One more thing."

This ought to be good.

"I figured out where I would like to get married."

My eyebrows lift in surprise. "It's been thirty seconds."

"The beach. I want to get married to you on the beach."

I immediately begin forming an argument, when I suddenly stop myself. I frown, trying to figure out what is wrong with that idea, but actually finding it more appealing the more that I think about it.

The beach is not only Scarlett's favorite place, but it is kind of also _our_ place too. Scarlett told me about her abuse on the beach. Scarlett and I were sexual for the first time while on vacation to a beach.

I practically light up. "You know what, Scar. I think that's perfect."

"Really?" Scarlett bites her lip and smiles excitedly.

"Yes! Where?"

She frowns. "Florida?"

"Okay."

"Really?" Her mouth drops.

"Yes," I laugh. "Why not?"

"I don't know," She shrugs. "It just felt too easy. Won't it be too expensive to get people to fly down?"

"If you plan it ahead of time I'm sure everyone will be able to find something in their budgets," I smirk at her.

"Yeah, still not into the whole planning ahead idea."

"Scarlett," I laugh. "How do you plan on sending out invitations?"

She rolls her eyes. "You're overthinking this, Lahote. You want to marry me, don't you?"

"Very much so," I nod at her.

"Than just do it!"

I chuckle, kind of flabbergasted yet totally in love with this girl. The thing about Scarlett, is that she is _constantly_ surprising me. How she is acting right now, it is a total shock. She isn't nervous or second-guessing or worrying, instead, she is jumping in head first. She notices me staring and I stand up straighter. "What is it that you want, again?"

"I would like to have a wedding whenever I want and not have you complain about it and just marry me," She smiles widely.

I laugh. "Why not. I mean, it's not like I'm offended that you want to marry me right away."

She picks her phone off of the countertop and begins furiously typing out a text.

"What are you doing?" I speak, my voice exasperated. At this point, she is probably getting a marriage license to just trick me into having her marry us right this second.

She shushes me and continues.

I sigh.

This should be good.

She pulls her phone down and then a wide smile fills her face. I am just about to ask her what the heck that just was when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I look at her weirdly as I pull it out.

It is a group message between the pack, my mom, the Cullen's, and the two of us.

 _Hey! Everyone free the weekend after graduation? Paul and I are getting married!_

I burst out laughing.

This. This is why I love her.

I shake my head at her as I place my phone on the counter and then rush towards her. "Ugh!" I groan, pulling her up and hugging her tightly. "I fucking love you, girl."

Scarlett giggles. "You do, boy?"

"Yes!" I spin her around in a circle and she squeals.

I become hysterical when I hear both of our phones start ringing at the same time.

"You do realize that you just told my mother that we're getting married over text, right?"

Her eyes widen. "Woops."

I laugh. "We need to go tell her in person, hopefully before she checks her phone, or she is going to kill me."

Scarlett giggles. "That's fine- not the killing part!" She quickly clarifies. "I mean the telling your mom part."

I laugh. "I'm going to marry you, Scar," I drop her and then cup her cheeks in my hands, a smile practically erupting out of me. She smiles that breathtakingly beautiful smile and peers up at me.

"What's taking you so long?"

I laugh and lose myself in those lips.

Fuck.

I can't wait to spend the rest of my life doing this.

I hear thunder in the distance and perk up, remembering an entry about her love for thunderstorms and an instance in which she stood in the rain, "feeling alive, and accepting it," she had said. I reach for her hand and pull it excitedly. "Come on! This is means for celebration!"

"Paul!" Scarlett giggles. "Where are we going?" She gasps as I pull her out the back door and out into the pouring rain. I run us through the woods and then to that one spot that I phased for her and then drop her arm.

Scarlett has her hands out at her sides, her eyes wide with wonder and her tee-shirt complete soaked. "Paul!" She laughs loudly, looking up at the sky in shock.

I offer her my hand and bow just a little bit.

She bursts out laughing and shakes her head, but a second later she is placing her hand in mine and I am spinning her around and dancing her dramatically through the grass.

"Paul!" Scarlett gasps out between laughs. "What are you doing" She has to yell out over the monsoon. "It's pouring!"

"I'm dancing with you!" I declare, dipping her in the next instance.

I pull her back up and she wavers a little bit, though I spin her anyways, keeping her up with pure strength and loving how clumsy she is.

"But we don't even have music!"

"You want music, baby? Alright! What's our song?"

"We don't have a song," Scarlett laughs. "Only disgusting couples have songs!"

"I want a song!" I demand, twirling her so much she actually starts falling over from dizziness.

"You don't get a song!" She giggles.

"Oh, alright. You want country, is that what you said? Hm, how about some good old Johnny Cash? _Love is a burning thing! And it makes a fiery ring! Bound by WILD desire! I fell into a ring of fire!_ "

"Oh my God! No!" Scarlett blurts, tears condensing in the corners of her eyes from laughing so hard. "No!"

"No Johnny?" I pretend to appear offended.

"No!" She gasps, "Definitely no Johnny!"

"Alright, alright. You're a Kanye chick then? _No more parties in LA. Please Scarlett no more parties in LA. UGH!"_

"Shut up!" Scarlett's chest shakes from laughter.

"What do you want then?" I burst out laughing. "You want something classic, is that it? How about-,"

"Okay!" She interrupts me! "Okay! We can have a song if you _promise_ to stop singing!"

I laugh. "Great idea! What took you song long, jeesh! My vocal cords hurt! What are you thinking?"

"Something not gay."

I giggle. "Don't Stop Believing?"

"That is the opposite of what I want," She shakes her head at me.

I twirl her around in a circle and she comes crashing back to my chest. "Jesus!"

"Jesus Take the Wheel?"

"No!" She giggles.

"You Should've Said No by good old Taylor Swift?"

"Are you crazy?" Scarlett stammers.

"Crazy in Love?"

"Fine!" Scarlett finally exclaims. "Crazy in Love!"

"Ooooo, "I pull her gently to my chest and begin slow dancing with her.

She rolls her eyes. "That's fine," Her voice is softer now. "But the slower, Fifty Shades version. Not the one with the dancing girls that Jimmy Kimmel is always impersonating."

I laugh so loudly I swear I snort.

A roar of thunder cracks in the distance and Scarlett jumps into my arms. "Paul!" She squeals.

I twirl her around in a circle as she screams. "Paul!" She giggles. "I'm going to throw up!"

I set her down and laugh as I cup her face between my hands. "You are so beautiful," I speak suddenly, completely serious, because she _is_. "I can't believe I'm marrying you."

Scarlett's eyes soften as she leans up towards me. The rain is pounding down on her face but I can still see the passion behind her beautiful eyes. "Promise me this is forever," She murmurs, her eyes seeking.

I pull her closer to me. "I promise."

She closes her eyes and then touches the corner of my face. When she opens her eyes she has an easier, more playful grin on her face. "You still have that ring?"

I grin wildly as I pull it out of my pocket. I pull the ring out and slip it onto her finger. She holds it up and cocks her head and bites her lip as she examines it.

"You like it?" I ask her.

Scarlett smiles widely. "Blue?"

"Your new favorite color," I remind her.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "I can't just change my favorite color because you told me to."

"You didn't," I place her hair behind her ear. "It was always your favorite color. You just wouldn't let it be."

I notice her gulp. "No more bruises," She sighs, nodding her head at the ground.

I press her chin up. "Ever," I speak sternly.

Scarlett's lips pull up into a timid smile. "I love it, Paul. And I love you."

I wrap my arms around her back. "I love you too. Actually, when you leave I'm begging you not to go, call your name two, no, three times in a row."

"Okay!" Scarlett giggles and rolls her eyes. "Thanks Beyoncé! Now would you shut up and kiss me?"

I laugh and mold my lips to hers. They fit perfectly. _We_ fit perfectly. And I can't wait for forever.

* * *

Nine days later

"You think she's coming?" Embry jokes with me.

"Shut up," I laugh and shake my head at him. "She's coming."

"Yeah, I know."

Everyone is standing on the beach, waiting for Scarlett, and though she is taking a little longer than usual, I know that it has nothing to do with her second-guessing this decision. In the last ten days, I basically had to have sex with her to distract her from convincing me to marry her on the spot in a courthouse.

"So in the mean time, should I get my money back from Seth for screaming he objects to the wedding and grabbing Scarlett and running away?" Embry interjects casually.

"I would fucking kill you," I mumble. "I still can't believe I let this happen." I turn and look at him and shake my head. "You look like a fucking idiot," I laugh.

Embry does a full turn and then dramatically flips his giant black journal open in which he wrote out "Scarlett Bible" in silver sharpie.

"Do you even have any words in there?" I roll my eyes.

Embry scoffs. "What? Do you think I just memorized my speech?"

"Speech?"

"Don't worry," He sighs. "Your girl threatened to stab me in the heart with a butter knife if I tried anything."

I laugh. "Sounds like her."

"Excited for this joyous occasion?" He pats my back.

"I can't believe when I think back to my wedding day I'm going to remember _you_ marrying Scarlett and I. How did I let her convince me of this?"

We both laugh and I shake my head.

I can't believe that I had actually allowed Scarlett to get Embry a marriage giving license (or whatever the hell it's called) on the internet and have him marry us. One, it's slightly weird considering he basically told her he was in love with her, and two… it's just weird! But the thought was just odd enough to excite Scarlett in such a way that I couldn't say no.

And so here we are.

Somehow Embry is marrying us.

Somehow everyone got a flight for Florida in less than a week's time, but that probably has a lot to do with the Cullen's wedding present, which consisted of paying for _everyone's_ plane tickets, both ways.

Somehow we all made our flight exactly two hours after graduation.

And somehow I am marrying the most perfect, incredible, beautiful, sweet and kind woman in the entire world.

"Sorry!" Claire rushes out of the two, wide doors of the condo we rented out just for the day for the location, and starts skipping down the aisle throwing flowers. Scarlett colored flowers. I smile at the touch, most definitely Nessie's doing. "Scarlett and Nessie got in a fight about makeup!"

The entire group bursts into laughter at that very accurate description. Music begins, the piano Fifty Shades of Grey version of Crazy in Love, and then Nessie and Kim both float down the very tiny aisle and take their seats on the sides. Although Scarlett had _insisted_ on no bridesmaids, Nessie and Kim had basically threatened not to come unless she gave them special standing. We had compromised, with Jake, Jared and I as mediators between Scarlett on one side and then Nessie and Kim on the other, basically at each other's throats, that they could help her get ready and walk down the aisle to music, but then they would have to take a seat. Oh, and there would be no flower holding.

I chuckle at the memory.

The doors open wider and my heart stops in my chest. Scarlett steps out onto the sand with bare feet. Her cheeks are slightly pink as she bites her lip nervously; I know that she doesn't like all this attention, but for the life of me I can't look away. I can imagine everyone else's jaws are as dropped as mine. She has a light blue dress on that cuts lower than usual in the bust and flows in long, delicate, sparkling layers down to the sand. There is a white band around the middle, showing off her waist, and her hair is in a beautiful, messily and perfectly braided, half-up, half-down, _full_ -sexy thing that makes me want to take her clothes off. Her eyes are dark with black eye-makeup that makes the ocean blue pop so intensely it is like she is pulling me into her.

Scarlett smiles shyly at me as my mom takes her hand and they both walk the short distance to me. My mom is sobbing, which makes everyone laugh a little bit, especially since Scarlett is laughing at her, and not the one crying herself.

That's my Scarlett, though.

She reaches me and then I hug my mom before taking Scarlett's hand.

"What took you so long?" I whisper to her.

"Stop complaining, "She whispers back.

"I have nothing to complain about," I laugh. "You look perfect. And you're about to be mine forever, any second thoughts?"

"A thousand," She giggles and then winks at me.

Whoa. Please, Scarlett. For the love of God, you can't just be this sexy in front of so many people.

"Quiet it down now, lovebirds." Embry clears his throat and I narrow my eyes at him. "Look at your woman," He instructs me.

I roll my eyes and set my gaze on Scarlett. She blushes when I take her hands and gives me a nervous smile.

I smile reassuringly at her.

"We are gathered here today because Scarlett Rhodes decided that she wanted a wedding in eight days."

Everyone bursts out laughing, including Scarlett and I. I hate to give Embry any credit, but there would have been a more perfect way to begin our wedding.

"And what Princess wants, Princess gets."

"Alright, cool it Embry," She rolls her eyes.

He laughs and then his voice softens. I squeeze her hands and she looks at me, so much excitement behind that bright blue. "On a more serious note, we all met Scarlett Rhodes when she had just moved to Forks. I think I speak for everyone when I say that she was beautiful, but she wasn't the Scarlett that we know now." She smiles just a little bit. "And then she met Paul Lahote." A few chuckles come from the group. "There was fighting, dramatics, crazy arguments and a whole lot of denial," Scarlett giggles. "But one thing that both of them surely agree on, is that they were made for each other."

Scarlett smiles widely and then I can't help myself. I clasp my palm around her neck and pull her towards me. At first Scarlett is surprised, but almost immediately she falls into me, and I notice a few whistles and some claps.

"I didn't say to kiss her yet!" Embry shoves my arm.

"Sorry," I laugh and pull away. "My bad."

Scarlett giggles. "You seem really sorry."

"As I was saying," Embry rolls his eyes. "Scarlett and Paul are perfect for each other. Together, they create an annoyingly attractive couple, but not only do they look good, they also understand each other in a way that is pretty incredible to see. They got through secrets, abuse, and a whole lot of other things, and they did it _together_ , and throughout it all, they loved each other. They're not prefect, but they're pretty close. And as your best friend," He turns towards Scarlett now. He drops his book and then smiles gently at her. "I can honestly say that I've never been happier for someone. And that I know that you will have the happiest life with Paul, and that you deserve to be happy more than anymore. And even though I know Paul will never hurt you, I just want you to know, that I would kill him if he ever did, even though he won't."

Scarlett giggles. "Thanks, Emb."

"Now," He pops straight up again, their moment broken, and looks like the regular Embry that everyone else besides Scarlett gets. "Scarlett has prepared a few words to say today."

My mouth drops. "What? You said no to vows!"

"I lied," She smiles guiltily and then takes a folded up piece of paper from Embry.

"Wh- Scarlett! I- I don't have anything to say!"

"That was the plan," She giggles.

I roll my eyes. "You're the worst."

"Welcome to your future, baby," She giggles and our friends follow suit. "Okay," She takes a deep breath. She opens the paper and then bites her cheek and pulls it back down. "I just want to disclaim this whole thing with saying that I didn't want to do vows because I think it's weird telling a whole room of people how much you love someone when I should just be telling him and I don't really believe in them but this is a gesture to,"

"Scarlett," I stop her.

She blushes. "Anyways." She opens up her paper and then a gentle smile engulfs her face. "Paul Lahote, "She rolls her eyes. "When I met you I wasn't okay." My face drops a little bit. "And I was scared. Of everything, but especially of you. I was scared of you because you made me feel things that I wasn't ready to feel, and things that I didn't want to feel. And you made it impossible to pretend anymore, or lie to myself, but especially to lie to you. And I fought against you with _everything_ that I had. But I still wasn't able to get away from you." She giggles and I laugh just a little bit.

"I can't," She clears her throat and I notice her suck in her cheek like she does when she's trying not to cry. My mouth almost drops; Scarlett is about to cry while reading vows at our wedding! This is so un-Scarlett like that it makes me tear-up too. "I can't explain what happened to me when I fell in love with you," She takes a deep breath and then gulps down her tears. "I was broken and you fixed me, and you make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world," She breaks to take a few, quick breaths, blinking her eyes rapidly. "Every day of my life. I don't think you understand what it feels like to be so completely loved by you after never being loved by anyone at all," Her voice cracks at the end and I wipe at my eyes. Fuck.

"You love different," She sucks in a breath. "Differently than anyone in the entire world. And you're incredible. And you're my best friend." Scarlett gulps. "And I promise that I'm all in, no matter what I say or when I get insecure or when I feel lost. Because I never had a home, until I met you. You're my home." She drops her paper and then looks up at me nervously from beneath her lashes. "Okay. I'm done."

I laugh and she giggles nervously. I reach out and gently press the back of my finger to her eye to catch a tear.

"Wow," Embry speaks for everyone. "You got anything to say, dude?"

Everyone bursts out laughing and I shake my head incredulously. "Thanks a lot!" I tell her.

She giggles.

"Well," I sigh. "I was instructed not to write vows. But when I thought about writing them, it went something like, 'You don't know how perfect you are and you're just the sweetest human being I've ever met and I would do anything for you and I wouldn't want to spend my life with anyone other than you, ever. And that I promise to love you forever, exactly how you deserve to be loved.'," Scarlett's face softens. "Oh! And I promise if I figure out a way to make us immortal I will definitely capitalize on that!"

Scarlett's mouth drops before she laughs so loudly she has to cover her mouth as everyone else chuckles; they wouldn't understand, I think as I chuckle, that was a joke just to make my Scarlett laugh.

"Alright. Ring time, ladies and gentlemen," Embry declares.

I smile and pull a small black box out of my pocket. With more time, I was able to find something perfect for her wedding band. Well, in reality it is two bands. The first one is a thin stand of diamonds that goes in front of her ring, and the next is a little bit thicker, and consists of many silver, roses crossed and tangled around each other in a circle, as to represent her name: Scarlett Rose; it literally means, red rose. Her eyes widen and her mouth parts.

"Paul," She complains quietly as I take her fingers and put the thicker band, her engagement ring, and then the thinner band onto her finger.

I pull away and she holds her hand out with wide eyes. "Jeeze," She mumbles.

I chuckle. "Nothing but the best for my girl," I tell her quietly.

She rolls her eyes. I know that she is wondering how I could afford this, but the truth is that I have saved up a lot of money over the years. I haven't really _done_ anything as I coached and worked at the shop, and I don't mind spending my savings on Scarlett, I really don't. She deserves it, just like she deserves everything that she could ever imagine.

Scarlett sighs and reaches into her pocket. She frowns after a moment but then breathes a breath of relief once she pulls out a single ring. I shake my head at her, but she just giggles shyly.

I hold my hand out to her but she holds it up to me. It is silver and thick. It isn't until I focus on it a bit more that I realize that there is something actually engraved in them. I look at the numbers, each separated by a tiny, black stone in middle and read across: there are at least ten numbers in around the entire length of the band.

"They're all the numbers of days that we had big… moments happen." Scarlett blushes wildly, and once I realize what she means, I am guessing that the first day we had sex is one of these numbers too.

"Days?" I question.

"Starting with the day I moved to Forks. The day I came is one and then so on. And just so you know, it was ridiculous figuring out all the specific days and counting."

I chuckle. "Thanks, sweetheart."

She blushes. I hold out my hand and she slips it on. I pretend not to notice when she breathes a breath of relief that it actually fits.

"So, by the power invested in me by Free and Easy Marriage Licensing Inc," Embry states. "I now pronounce you husband and wife! Paul, kiss your girl!"

We both laugh as I cup her face in my hands and kiss her gently. The crowd erupts behind us and Scarlett kisses me once more before she pulls away, pressing her face into my shoulder as she giggles with nervous laughs.

I laugh and pull her away from me. I reach for her hand and take one step forward, when suddenly a cannon of gold is shooting out all around us in the shape of a heart.

Scarlett screams and jumps towards me before she realizes what it is and then her mouth drops.

Glitter comes out from the sky (no, really, I have no idea how this glitter is getting down here), and coats us all, as celebration music bursts through the speakers.

Scarlett bursts out laughing as everyone claps and cheers and cries (my mom especially).

"I'm going to kill Nessie," She rolls her eyes.

I smile and pull her towards me. "Oh relax, Scarlett _Lahote_." I wink at her. "You're all mine now."

Scarlett smiles widely. "In that case, I guess I could let it go."

I laugh and pull her to me by her waist. "Now, if I could just get that dress off of you," I murmur to her before I press my mouth to those perfect, _perfect_ lips.

Heaven.

* * *

WAHOOOO! They are married! Don't worry, Scarlett and Paul's story is not over yet! The next few chapters will skip a little here and there, though, but I will always give you guys the dates! I'll update soon! Please review:)


	36. The Present

Hi guys! I am so, so sorry for the long wait. I hope this makes up for it!

* * *

 **Four Years Later**

 **Paul's POV:** December 1st

I set a mug of steaming, hot coffee on the side-table next to Scarlett's side of the bed and then sit down on the edge of it. I pull the covers down and lift my tee-shirt, which just so happens to be her sleep-shirt, to trail my fingertips down her spine.

I shouldn't wake her, but last night wasn't the kind of night that I enjoy having with her. She stirs and rolls onto her back. She rubs her delicate, soft hands against her red and swollen eyes and I immediately feel terrible. The fight last night was the same one that we have been having for weeks now. We spent years building up to this point; and now with me finally being able to live my dream as a head, college coach, and with her secure in a career as an interior designer, it is just time, not that Scarlett agrees with me.

I'm ready. I'm ready for kids. And that freaks Scarlett out so much it has resulted in multiple emotional breakdowns and panic attacks. Even realizing that I am the one to give them to her breaks my heart, but it frustrates me beyond my belief; how on earth could _Scarlett_ think that she wouldn't be a good mother?

It wasn't like we never talked about it. We always mentioned our hypothetical children, and she seemed absolutely fine with it. It wasn't until the actual idea of trying began, however, that she truly flipped a switch. It was as if even the mention of it sends her into a full-blown panic and suddenly she is hysterical and screaming that I am yelling at her though I swear I am just putting out her fire.

I hadn't even held her last night when we'd went to bed; I had been that frustrated, but now I feel absolutely, positively like the worst husband in the world. It's hard to be frustrated with Scarlett when she is so damn beautiful, and especially when I think back to what she looked like in the hospital all those years ago.

I pull her into my lap and begin rocking her back and forth gently. Scarlett bats her long eyelashes open and then stunning, bright blue is staring me right in my unworthy eyes.

"Hi beautiful," I whisper to her as I run my finger down the side of her face.

"Paul," Scarlett mumbles and then rubs at her eyes. Her voice is rough and scratchy. "I feel terrible. Do I look as bad as I feel?"

I chuckle. "Not at all."

"Mmm," She takes a deep breath and then pushes out of my arms. I swallow down the sting of her pushing me away and let her re-adjust herself underneath the covers. I drop off of the bed and then kneel down next to her.

"Please don't be mad at me," I tell her softly, stroking my hand along the side of her cheek.

"I'm not mad at you," She answers quietly. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," I answer immediately. "Not even a little bit."

"Than would you please just… stop? I hate fighting with you. And you keep bringing it up. You- you- it's just- when you married me you said that you liked me just the way that I am. And I can't help but feel like you don't anymore."

"What?" I breathe, complete disbelief overtaking me. How on earth could she ever think that? "Baby, how could you think that? I _love_ you just the way that you are."

"Than why are you trying to change me?"

"I'm not! I-," I sigh and let my argument pass. Fighting my point hasn't been working lately, so why would it change now. "Scarlett?" I whisper to her gently as I strum my fingers along her hair. "Why would you ever think that? You're my girl. I love you always. Fuck the universe, remember?"

Her lips pull up at the corners and I can't help but smile. Much better.

"I just," She moans and then sits up in bed. Scarlett pulls the covers up to her chest and sighs loudly. "I know that you say that you want me. But you want a baby too."

I shake my head. "I want _your_ babies. I have never been too much of a fan of babies in general."

"Babies?" Her eyes pop. "Plural? Now you want more than one? Jesus Christ, Paul!"

I giggle.

"There is nothing funny about this!" Her eyebrows furrow in the middle. "You can't accept a no and I can't give you a yes so just stop using a condom. It's not like I'll ever say no."

I frown. "No. Scarlett. I would never do that to you."

She rolls her eyes. "It's not like you'd be raping me."

I cringe. "Please don't ever mention us having sex and rape in the same sentence ever again."

Scarlett giggles easily. "I was kidding, Pauley."

I sigh. "Am I failing at this marriage thing?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes again, more dramatically this time. "You're the best husband. Honestly, I'd never be able to live with another human and not kill them and actually want to hangout with them every day except for you."

"Reassuring," I laugh. "I like you too. And for the record, I think you're a great wife."

"Really?"

I nod. "The best, actually."

"Even though I don't want a baby?" She frowns rather adorably.

I ponder this for a moment. "Never?"

Scarlett takes a second to bite the inside of her cheek and surely internally panic for a moment. "Not now. Just- could you give me some… time? I promise I'll work on it, okay? I'll come around. I always do. I just need to, like, figure out how to, like, not freak out about it. Okay?"

My lips pull up at the corners. "I can do that. I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, old news Lahote." She lays down in bed and pulls the covers protectively overtop of her. "Now go to work and let me sleep. Jeesh."

I crawl on top of her and laugh against her neck. "I was thinking of calling in sick."

"No," She moans. "Leave me alone you creepy, horny man."

I burst out laughing. "Wow. Okay." I go to pull away but she tugs on my arm and I drop down next to her.

"Stay," Scarlett says sweetly. "Just let me sleep," She sighs against my shoulder. "You know I can't think clearly under eleven hours."

"You are incredible," I shake my head.

"Shhh," She kisses my shoulder. "Paul?"

"Hm?" I kiss her forehead.

"If I ever _did_ want a baby, it would be with you. I just- I hope that you know that it's not you."

I hug her tighter to me. "Yes, I do. Now sleep, beautiful; we won't talk about this again until you're ready."

"Can I have some sort of time frame?" She mumbles. "I am afraid that I would just put it off until we were 70 and then decide I wanted a child."

I chuckle. "One year?"

She smiles. "One year. Okay. Okay- I can do one year."

"Go to sleep, baby girl."

"Yes sir," She sighs. "After all of that serious talk I _am_ feeling slightly stressed, though."

I lean up to see her closed eyes and even breath. Is the asking for what I think she is asking for?

"Scarlett?"

"Hm?"

I shake my head at her and lower myself underneath the sheets. "Is this what you want?" I kiss down her stomach and then gently down the insides of her thighs.

"Mmm," Scarlett breathes.

"This?" I breathe into her sensitive spot and hear her gasp. "Yeah, baby; this is what you want." I only manage to pleasure her for a minute or so before she has had enough.

"Ugh!" Scarlett moans loudly. "Fine- Lahote! You win! Just have sex with me already!"

I laugh as I pull myself up and then find her awaiting arms. She wraps her skinny, little arms around my neck and kisses me sweetly.

"I'm sorry," I tell her honestly.

"No," She sighs. "I'm sorry."

"Makeup sex?" I ask excitedly.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "Yes please," She moans.

And in about 5.4 minutes, all is forgiven.

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV:** December 24th

Christmas shopping is going much better than expected. Of course I waited until the last few hours, literally, to finish my Christmas shopping.

As of now, I have everyone's presents picked out, except for Paul's of course, but he always seems to be the most difficult for me.

The only issue, is that I have been sick practically all day.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and pull it out. I pull my hat tighter down on my ears and pull off my glove to wipe a layer of snow from my screen.

 _How u feeling?_

I smile to myself. Paul and I spent the morning together and then went our separate ways to get some private Christmas shopping done in the afternoon, and of course he still found time to text me. _Awful_

He sends back two frowns. _I've got Christmas Eve dinner tonight- go home and sleep!_

I nearly laugh to myself; of course he has dinner tonight. It has become tradition that we spend Christmas Eve together completely alone; Paul makes dinner and then we add ornaments to the already decorated tree, make Christmas cookies until we can't think straight, sip on so much hot chocolate our stomach's hurt, and then dance around our apartment to Christmas music.

 _I still have to get someone's Christmas present…_

 _Go home and sleep naked. I'll even act surprised! Best Christmas ever!_

I giggle. _You are disturbing._

 _;) Don't be late for Christmas Eve festivities! Love you Scarlett Lahote._

I roll my eyes. _I love you too, OG Lahote!_

I drop my phone back into my pocket and sigh to myself. The present ideas that I currently am deciding upon go from tickets to the Florida State football game, in Florida of course, all the way to a coupon to get me drunk in the city and then to a hotel room after. We have been married for four years and I have never drank before, so I am leaning heavily towards that option because it is just weird enough to be a totally original gift, yet I know we would have a lot of fun.

I finally decide on that gift, slip my gloves back on, and bundle up the rest of the gifts in my hands and trudge out through the thick layer of snow beneath my feet to head back to my car. As soon as I take my first step, though, I nearly throw up right then and there.

I moan and place my hand to my stomach and take a deep breath. Jesus Christ. I have been nauseous a lot lately, but I have been trying to shield it from Paul. Honestly, I'm nervous that something is really wrong. I have been nauseous almost every morning, and some evenings, too. I'm more hungry than normal, yet certain foods that I eat make me throw it right up. I'm tired… all the time. And I have been getting a lot of headaches recently.

I stand up when the wave of nausea passes and pat my stomach. It is _Christmas Eve._ I can't be sick now; this is our holiday! I buckle over when I nearly throw up my lunch.

With a sigh, I finally give into the inevitable and pull Renesmee's grandfather's number up on my phone. It is only three o'clock- I've still got an hour before Paul and I decided that we would be home; it is more than enough time to stop by on my way back.

He tells me on the phone that it would be a pleasure to see me and that it wasn't an inconvenience at all, which is a very normal response from all of Nessie's family; I guess having been alive for so long makes them ridiculously polite. So, I drive right to there house from the mall.

Mr. Cullen is the one who opens the door for me. "Scarlett. How are you?"

"I'm good!" I say happily as I pull my hat off and let him take my coat. I ruffle my definitely staticky hair and then hug Mrs. Cullen. "How are you guys?"

"Great! It's been too long. How is Paul?" Mrs. Cullen holds my shoulders as she talks to me.

"Amazing!" I giggle, "We're so busy! It sounds like a cop-out but seriously! Since Paul got that job as head coach he is practically in a football coma! And I started working for a company that does the interior decorating for super rich people. Oh! Did Nessie tell you I met Oprah?"

"Yes!" Mr. Cullen laughs. "She did! That's amazing! Was she as modest as she appears on screen?"

"More so," I laugh. "I think my boss was a bit much for her."

"You shouldn't have a boss," Mrs. Cullen rolls her eyes. "You're better than her. I can't believe Oprah would want a place in Washington, though."

I blush and then laugh. Though my career has definitely taken off, I don't like to make it known. "Apparently she has family down here," I tell her.

"Explains enough," Mrs. Cullen sighs.

"Perhaps we'll meet her before we leave," Mr. Cullen ponders.

"If you guys leave I'm killing myself, did Nessie tell you that?"

Mr. Cullen chuckles. "She mentioned something about self-harm. Scarlett, our daughter is here; we will be back every month until they come to join us."

I huff. "Antartica is way too far! And you do realize that Nessie and Jake aren't going anywhere until I'm good and dead, right?"

"And they say vampires are morbid," Rosalie says with a small smile as she comes into the room.

"Rose!" I squeal and run to her. She hugs me gently and I pull away with an excited smile.

"Hi honey." Rose smiles back at me. My relationship with the Cullen's is odd because though they are technically my same age, they have been alive for years and years, so they view me more of a daughter or niece than as a friend. "Are you sick, Scarlett?" Her expression is suddenly concerned.

"I'm sure I"m fine," I quickly reassure her. "I just had some time before I had to be home so I thought I'd get it figured out before the holiday and then not have to worry about it."

Rosalie nods. "I'll take you to Carlisle."

"Great." She leads me to Carlisle's office and then he immediately begins by taking my vitals. I tell him my symptoms and somewhere along the way he got this slightly amused but professional smirk and that never went away throughout the entire check up. He takes a little bit of blood from me and then only "examines it" for a few minutes before he has a verdict.

"Well, Scarlett. I think I may want to have Jasper in the vicinity before I tell you this," He pats my shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

In less than a second I feel a wave of calm pass overtop of me like a heavy blanket. "Jasper," I moan. "You know I hate when you do that!"

I hear a small chuckle.

"Scarlett," Carlisle is suddenly in front of me.

"Yes?"

"How pregnant do you want to be?"

My eyes pop. " _What_?" I exclaim.

"Because you are very pregnant."

I gasp. "P-p-p-p-p-pregnant?"

"Yes."

I want to panic. I really, really, really do, but I just can't. I am suddenly so grateful for Jasper's gift that I want to run up and hug him. "I'm pregnant?" I whisper.

He nods. "You are."

"But… how?"

"Were you using protection."

"Ye-," I begin to say, but then stop myself. "Well, sometimes."

Carlisle smiles. "Accidents can happen. This wasn't planned, was it?"

I shake my head slowly.

"Are you okay?"

I nod my head slowly.

"Do you have any questions?"

I nod again.

"Like?"

"H-H-How l-long?" I suddenly shiver and hug myself tightly.

"About a month."

"A month?" I exclaim. I think back to the last fight that Paul and I had and almost laugh at the irony; I was probably already pregnant at the time.

"So far you are perfectly healthy. The baby is in good health as well."

"The b-b-baby."

"You are white."

"Jesus," I mumble. "Pregnant."

"Scarlett?" His hands are on my shoulders. "Are you going to pass out?"

"I-I-I-I-I don't know."

"Were Paul and you planning on starting a family?" He asks gently.

I nod. "But- I mean- not now! In like a year. This is-this is- I- I'm pregnant. _Pregnant._ Me!" I lift up my shirt and then look down at my stomach. Certainly it has looked a little rounder than usual, but I had chalked that up to hormones and being bloated and sick.

"Wow," I whisper as I place my palm on top of my stomach. I feel a kick back, something small and timid and weak, but I still feel it. I gasp. My mouth drops at my stomach. I blink a few times to be sure that I am not dreaming. "Oh my God." Tears condense in the corners of my eyes. "That's my… that's my- that's Paul's baby. That's Paul's baby! That's _my_ baby!"

He laughs and squeezes my shoulder. "You're going to be a mother."

I suddenly understand why Paul had been so frustrated with me. What had I been so worried about? I have a human, a little tiny human with a little bit of Paul and a little bit of me in my stomach and he or she is just in there, growing and learning and listening. I rub my hand in soft circles around my stomach and smile just a little bit to myself. "I _am_ a mother." And I suddenly realize how much that is true; I am a mother, but a real one. A good one.

Once I leave the Cullen's I am more content than I ever thought possible. The thought of having a baby never scared me; of course I wanted a little Paul running around- it was the idea of being a mother. Would I be any good at it? What if she hated me? What if I couldn't love him like my mom never loved me? But now… now I realize that I was so off-base it isn't even funny. I haven't even met him, and yet I already love him so much. I am careful to place the seatbelt above my stomach and hold my hand protectively to my baby. Our baby. My baby. Paul and I's baby.

I fight a wide smile and giggle to myself.

One year?

More like one month.

I stop to get Paul's new present and am about twenty minutes late to get home. I am smiling so widely I have to give myself a pep-talk in the car; _don't spoil it, Scarlett!_ I step through the front door and quickly take off all of my snow-gear (as Paul calls it).

"Scarlett Lahote."

Paul steps into the family room with a spatula in hand and crosses his arms. "You are late, young lady."

My eyes pop. "I'm sorry!" I hold my hands up. "Don't shoot!"

He shakes his head glaringly at me. "Not shoot you. I'm going to spank you though." Paul smacks the spatula against his palm and I roll my eyes.

"Alright Christian Grey. Chill out over there."

He laughs. "Hurry up. Get in here. Dinner's almost done and then we've got cookie making. Jeesh, skimping on your wifey duties."

"Sorry!" I jump up and then skip over to him. I hug him tightly and then giggle into his shoulder.

"Hey honey," He laughs and pats my back. "You seem happy."

"Of course I'm happy," I giggle. "How could I not be? I'm so lucky."

He kisses the side of my head. "No. _I'm_ lucky, baby girl. You want some hot chocolate?"

"Before dinner?" I scoff.

He laughs and taps my bottom with the spatula. "Bad girl," He whispers into my ear. His lips drop to my neck and I can't help but close my eyes and fall into him. I have no chance of denying him or doing anything productive when he is like this.

Paul sucks on the curve of my jaw and I gasp. His hands stroke down my sides and I press myself closer to him.

His lips trail down my chest. I tangle my fingers in his hair and he smiles against my skin. "Oh, baby," He murmurs.

I wrap my arms around his neck and sigh. "Paul. You're amazing. I'm so happy."

He pulls his face up to look at me. He is looking at me a little funny. "That's my job, Scarlett. Is everything okay, honey?" He sweeps my hair behind my ears.

I bite my lip to keep from smiling too widely and nod my head. Paul. The sweetest man that I have ever met. The one who protects me and holds me when I fall asleep and rocks me when I have a nightmare. He is going to be such an incredible dad. I can just imagine him doing the same for our child, and it makes me feel content in a way I've never quite felt before.

I giggle again and jump into his arms. "Ugh! Paul Lahote!"

"Ugh, Scarlett!" Paul laughs. "Dinner time?"

"Dinner time!"

At dinner, I make sure that I eat everything. Even the vegetables. This isn't about me anymore, and I want to do this pregnancy thing right. Cookie making follows, accompanied with some Christmas tree decorating, or course. I just finish my second cup of hot chocolate when I suddenly hear Santa Baby blaring through the surround sound, and Paul offers me his hand.

We dance around the kitchen like two little kids, stuffing our face with cookies as we pass by the countless racks, and throwing some ornaments on the tree as we pass by. At midnight we find ourselves beneath the sheets on the floor in front of the fireplace. The heat of the fire and Paul's smooth, skin overtakes me and sends me into a pleasure-filled dream land where touches are hurricanes and kisses are tornadoes. We go slow. Slow and passionate and entirely overwhelmingly amazing. I don't try to make it harder or faster or try to take control; I let Paul take care of me, and I let him be gentle with me because we need to be gentle for someone else.

In the morning Paul wakes me up much like we fell asleep. I can tell that he can tell that something is off; not bad off, just _different_ off. He looks looking at me funny and then beginning to say something but then stopping and laughing to himself. It's not that I haven't always been ridiculously happy with Paul Lahote, it's just that I am _ridiculously_ happy- like, insanely happy- over-happy to a ridiculously insane extent.

We take a shower and then I get dressed in a long, grey sweater dress and some black tights and black, heeled booties. I almost feel bad for Paul having to stuff the car to the brink with so many presents but then again it's Christmas and so I really don't feel that bad.

We arrive at Jake and Nessie's just after everyone else got there. The first one to hug me is Mrs. Lahote, who takes the giant tray of Christmas cookies from me and kisses both of my cheeks.

"Merry Christmas, sweetie!"

"Merry Christmas mom," I laugh. Almost as soon as Paul and I got married, Mrs. Lahote begin insisting that I call her mom; it took about a year, but eventually it just stuck, and now it feels weird to call her anything else.

Paul places his hand on the top of my back and then follows me into the family room with everyone else. After the greetings, we all enjoy breakfast cooked by Nessie and Jake, of course, and then presents. Nessie and Jake have a joint rest of the holiday with Jacob's family and Nessie's family over at her grandpa Charlie's house, while the rest of the pack has a giant party over at Sam and Emily's.

"Here, Scarlett," Kim hobbles over to me. I laugh as I take the present from her. "You look like you're about to pop."

She rolls her eyes. "Seriously. Help me. This is from Jared and I."

"Me too!" I hear a tiny voice call over.

"And Cali, too."

"Cali," I laugh. "Come here!"

"Arlet!" Cali calls and then reaches her hands out and begins to whine in frustration when she has to wait.

I laugh and pull her onto my lap. "This is from you?" I kiss the side of her head.

"Me!" She squeals.

"You want to open it with me?"

"Yee!"

I chuckle and pick at the corner. "Here, you help me!" I tell her once I rip a piece large enough for her to begin pulling.

"Hey ladies," Paul comes up to us and pats Cali's knee. "Hi Cal! You don't give me a hug when I come in?"

"Oo! I- I wrap! My pwesent!"

"She picked this out for me! Didn't you Cali?" I bounce her in my lap.

"Me!" She squeals.

Paul laughs. "You did? All by yourself?"

Cali smiles proudly. "Want to come here so Scarlett can open it?" He holds his hands out. "Come on!" He smiles widely, his voice high and sweet.

I bite my lip and smile, imagining him doing the same thing for our child.

He lifts her onto his lap and then tickles her sides and has a conversation with her while I open up the rest of the gift. It is a white sweater, some heels and a book.

"You picked this out?" I ask Cali.

She smiles proudly.

"It is beautiful!" I hug her tightly on Paul's lap and feel his hand trail his fingers down my spine. "Thank you pretty!"

She giggles and runs off towards her dad. Jared notices her and lifts her onto his lap easily.

"Alright you two; this is from me." Mrs. Lahote hands us a large, rectangularly wrapped present.

"Ooooo! What is it?"

"Open it and find out!"

"You know I hate surprises," I sigh.

"Bullshit. Remember when you wanted to have a secret wedding?" Paul slides in next to me.

"Shut up," I giggle.

We peel back the wrapping paper together to reveal a large, black and white, framed picture from our wedding day. We're dancing on the beach and I'm smiling up at him as Paul is laughing about something that I said. He has one hand on my back while the other is on my cheek, and my arms are wrapped around his neck.

"Awe," I chuckle. "I've never seen this one before!"

"Me neither," Paul kisses my cheek. "I love it."

"I've kept it until now! I knew that I wanted to do something beautiful with it so I saved it," Mrs. Lahote explains.

"Thank you so much!" I stand and hug her. "I love it! Really! I can already imagine where we're going to put it!"

"Open ours!" Paul hands his mom her present from us and I clasp my hands excitedly. She unwraps the Nutri-Bullet, personal smoothie maker, that we got her and is just as ecstatic as we thought. Over the past year Mrs. Lahote has gotten into drinking smoothies every morning instead of coffee as part of her health kick; Paul and I have been giving her grief for the ancient, and I mean _ancient_ blender that she was using, that is so large that it took up the entire dish-wash just to clean it.

"Hey Clairey!" I call over to her spot by Quil. She's twelve now, almost a teenager and maturing right before all of our eyes. I think everyone from here to Nantucket can tell that Quil is freaking out about that. "Here!" I hand her a small wrapped box and she pops up excitedly and tries to show restraint while she opens it up.

"Oh! I love it!" She pops up excitedly.

"Yeah?" I giggle.

"Yes!" She jumps up and hugs me and I hug her tightly back. "It's from Paul, too."

"Thanks Paul!" Claire rushes over and hugs him quickly.

Paul pats her back. "Of course, honey."

"Quil, look!" She says when she gets back to the couch. She holds the small, light pink Pandora bead in front of Quil.

"Awe, that's nice, Claire-bear," He tells her happily. "Want me to put it on your bracelet for you?"

"No I can do it." Claire immediately takes off the bracelet that Quil got her for her birthday about a year ago and begins working on putting the bead on.

I feel a tug on my hand and then am suddenly pulled into Paul's lap.

"Oh!" I laugh and blush, looking around to see if we have drawn any attention. "Lahote," I scold underneath my breath.

"Baby," He kisses my jaw. Paul latches his hands around my thighs and pulls me closer to him. "You want your present?"

I feel heat rise on my cheeks. "I'm afraid!"

Paul laughs loudly. "Not inappropriate. Promise." He pulls out a tiny, terribly wrapped box from his pocket and my mouth drops.

"Paul!" I complain. "You didn't."

"I might have," He smiles proudly.

"I told you not to!"

"I didn't listen. Open it."

I roll my eyes and unwrap the obvious piece of jewelry. I flip the black, velvet box open and then almost gasp. It is a thin, beautiful necklace with a small, familiar, blue wave in the center.

"Paul," I breathe.

"Do you like it?" He asks, his voice actually nervous. "You can take it back and exchange it for something else if you want."

My mouth drops. "What? No! Paul, of course not! I love it!"

"Yeah?" His eyes are nervous.

"Yes," I say definitively, and then kiss him sweetly, a little too long for public, but I don't care. I always knew that Paul knew what happened to the ring that he gave to me that night that my step father attacked me; he never asked about it, though. It is obvious that he is worried about it bringing back any memories, but honestly, I missed that piece of jewelry more than I would ever admit, and I wasn't about to ask him for another one!

"Put it on, put it on!" I speak excitedly, sitting up.

"Okay!" He laughs. It takes him a while with the tiny clasp and his big fingers, but eventually he gets it, and once he does, he brushes the back of his fingers along my neck and then helps me drop my hair.

I turn back towards him and look down at the necklace.

"Beautiful," He brushes his finger across my cheek.

I look up at him and smile. How did I get so lucky? Seriously. I sigh and stand up.

I pull his present from its very private hiding spot behind the tree and slowly walk over to him.

"Oh, is that mine?" Paul breaks from a conversation with Quil to tease me.

I roll my eyes. "Maybe."

I hold it out to him but suddenly find myself extremely nervous. It is one thing telling Paul, but telling _everyone_ all at once like this? I suddenly wonder if this was a terrible, terrible idea. He tries to grab it but I hold on tight.

Paul raises his eyebrows at me. "Scarlett?"

I clear my throat and let go.

I'm not quite sure what to do with my hands or my body as he opens it, so I just stand in front of him nervously picking at my dress and twiddling with my feet and fingers and hair, and I can tell that people are beginning to notice.

Paul pulls the top of the box open and then brushes the tissue paper aside. He seems confused at first, but then I notice him lean forward and read, and then he freezes. Paul's eyes flicker up to mine, disbelief all over his face. He looks from me back down to the present and then to me again, doing that a few more times before his mouth drops.

"Really?" He breathes, his lips finally pulling up into a wide smile.

I bite the center of my lip and nod my head.

He pushes the present off of his lap and then stands. Paul is shaking his head as he warps his arms tightly around me. I take deep, greedy breaths of his scent and grab a tight fistful of the back of his shirt.

"Oh I love you," He is suddenly laughing. "I love you. I love you. I love you," Paul whispers into my ear.

I giggle against his chest and then close my eyes as he begins rocking me back and forth. I just want to stay like this, in my little home, forever. Until…

" _Oh my God!"_ I hear a screech that is so familiar and obviously Paul's mom's that I have to laugh with my face pressed tightly into Paul's chest.

" _Oh my God!"_ I hear again, followed by a chorus of screams as everyone sees the present that I gave to Paul. It was a box with some baby clothes, a Binki, and then a bib that said "I love my Daddy," across the center.

"You're pregnant!" I hear Nessie screech.

I force myself to pull away from Paul and nod, a blush coming to my cheeks as I smile due to all the attention.

"Oh my God! You're pregnant! This is amazing!" She hugs me tightly and I laugh and hug her back, though the truth is I just want to be hugging Paul.

"We're going to be pregnant together!" Kim says excitedly and then hugs me tightly.

"Perfect!" Jared adds, "Paul and I will just herd you two into a room together and take shifts on who has to deal with the pregnant women!"

"Shut up," I laugh and roll my eyes.

Paul's mom comes next, and she is sobbing. And I mean _sobbing._

"Mom," Paul laughs and rubs her shoulder. "Are you okay?" He is laughing so hard but covering his mouth, trying to hide it.

She tries to speak but can't. She comes up to me and keeps opening her mouth but then shaking her head and closing it again. Finally, Mrs. Lahote places her hand on my stomach and then covers her face with her hands and sobs loudly.

"Oh!" I laugh and pat her arm, not quite sure how to comfort her; crying humans have never been my strong suit.

Oddly enough, the last person to congratulate me about my pregnancy, just so happens to be Embry. Over the last year I really haven't seen that much of him. He moved away about a year ago to open up a few branches of Jake's AutoRepair Shop. He brought a steady stream of girls home with him, though none seemed to stick. I miss him; I miss him so much some days I actually feel like crying about it, but I know that it isn't fair of me to miss him like I do

"Well," Embry sighs and shakes his head at me. He came without a girlfriend this time, which is surprising and amazing at the same time; most haven't been my biggest fans. "You're knocked up, Princess."

I roll my eyes. "You're an idiot."

He laughs and holds his arm open for me. I try to push down the obvious relief that flows through my entire body with his offer. I press myself into his chest and then feel him hug me tightly.

"You're going to be an amazing mom, Scarlett," He says into my ear. "The absolute best." And it's the way he says it, the way that he isn't sarcastic, which he always is, and he is serious and kind and sincere, that makes me lose it. It is as if the reaction that I always thought would happen but never came, suddenly explodes out of me.

And I am sobbing.

"Oh!" Embry stiffens beneath me before quickly rubbing my shoulders. "Ugh, please stop that," He tells me and then clears his throat. "Scarlett!" His voice is quieter and more frantic this time. "Please stop crying! Everyone is looking at me like I just beat you up!"

I can't even begin to laugh at his terrible joke.

"Alright," I hear a laugh and then a familiar voice and thank God when I feel that soft, warm hand against my back and I am pulled into the safety net that is Pafety. Paul lets out a long moan and then wraps his arms tightly around my neck. "I was expecting this," He kisses the top of my head.

"I d-d-d-o-on't kn-n-now why I a-a-a-am c-c-crying," I gasp.

"It's okay," Paul rocks me back and forth.

"I'm h-h-happy I s-s-w-swear!"

Paul laughs. "I know, baby."

"Hey, Scarlett," I feel someone poke my arm. "When you say you're really happy but then you're sobbing like someone just killed your kitten, it is kind of confusing for the rest of us. I mean, are we supposed to celebrate or what?"

Jared.

I laugh through the tears.

"Yeah really, Princess," Embry says. "You're doing that emotional turmoil thing again. It's been too long, none of us are prepared."

"Oh, Scarlett!" Mrs. Lahote is behind me, rubbing my back. "I'm supposed to be the emotional one, remember?"

I laugh weakly and then pull away from Paul. I suck in the tears that I threatening to spill over and continuously swipe my fingers underneath my eye to catch stray tears.

"Is she okay?" I hear Claire ask.

"Shhh," Quil shakes his head at her.

"I-I-I," I hiccup. "I'm f-fine. They're h-h-happy tears."

Claire cocks her head at me. "They don't look like happy tears."

I burst out laughing. "Ugh!" I shake my head at myself and rub at my eyes. "No I am! I really am! It's normal for me to react opposite how I feel. I think I have a few wires mixed up."

"A few?" Embry flashes me his goofy grin and I feel Nessie hug my side.

I finally have control of myself and look for Paul. I am worried that I hurt him, that I upset him and ruined this incredible moment with a mundane, ridiculous one of my own, which is why I am so surprised when he is beaming. I don't think I have ever seen Paul look so happy before, and suddenly, I need to hug him again.

I hug him gently and then feel his hands begging to run up and down my back.

"Alright, guys," Seth comes in from the kitchen and lets out a long, deep breath. "I'm back! I finally found the matches for the fire-place. What did I miss?"

The entire room is suddenly hysterical.

Paul and I decide to go home for a while after the big announcement to have some time for ourselves before going straight to Sam and Emily's. The entire car ride home Paul is giggling like a little boy. He keeps reaching for my hand and kissing it and then laughing and shaking his hand and pressing it to his forehead.

"Are you okay?" I finally ask once we get into the apartment, a laugh in my voice.

Paul doesn't answer. Instead, he latches his arm around my back and pulls me to him and kisses me off my feet. Like, really, the guy kisses me off my feet. Jeesh, I am a lucky girl. Paul catches me and kisses me deeply, and suddenly every thought I have ever had practically sprints away from me at high speed.

Paul grabs my face in his hands and then kisses me once more. He drops to his knees and pushes my dress up.

"Paul," I giggle, but he just shushes me. He kisses my stomach gently, and then lifts his eyes up to me and smiles sweetly. "Baby," He murmurs.

"Hm?" I bite the corner of my lip.

"We're having a baby, baby."

I giggle. "Yeah, I guess we are," I whisper, and suddenly I am narrowing my eyes at him. I point right at him. "But I'm still your baby girl."

Paul laughs. "Of course! What kind of monster do you think I am?"

"Good," I giggle. "Are we going back to the party?"

"Oh no," Paul suddenly seems serious. He lifts me up and then lowers me onto the bed. "I'm making love to you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He lifts my dress off of me and then throws it across the room. He kisses a trail from my stomach all the way up to my neck and then breathes into my skin there.

"How are you feeling about this? Really?"

I close my eyes and smile. "Amazing."

"Really?" He runs his hands overtop of my chest. I moan softly.

"Yes," I sigh. "I thought I was going to freak out, and then I just… didn't. It was weird. I'm a mom," I giggle. "Like, that's insane. And amazing. And… crazy. But I'm happy. Really, really happy. It's little Pauley."

Paul gasps. "It's a boy?"

My mouth drops. "N-no! Well, I don't know! Maybe! Probably! Hopefully!"

He laughs. "Oh, well- no. I want a little Scarlett."

I roll my eyes. "No thank you. Isn't one enough?'

"Never," He kisses my temple.

"We're having a baby," I giggle. "A hot baby! A super hot baby!"

Paul bursts out laughing. "I take it back! No girls! I don't think I'd be able to handle it!"

I giggle. "See! Little, less slutty Paul Lahote."

"Oh yeah." Paul rubs his hand in small circles on my stomach and then smiles widely at me.

"I love you, Scarlett. I love you so much."

I wrap my arms around his neck. "I know. I love you, too. I do. I really, really do."

"Really?" He teases me.

"Really. Take your shirt off."

He laughs. "Horniest parents alive."

"Paul!" I gasp as heat rises to my cheeks. "My God!"

But it's not like he's lying…

"Oo!" I gasp up and arch my back on the bed.

Yeah.

Not lying at all.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this! I'll update much sooner- I promise! Please let me know how you like the jumping ahead, and of course I need to hear how you all feel about a Lahote pregnancy! Wooo!


	37. Just The Beginning

Sorry it's been so long... here it is! The final chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

"Scar, look at this."

Paul veers from the cart for the tenth time this shopping trip and motions towards a very large display for extremely high-tech and ridiculously overpriced baby monitors.

"No," I answer before I even really _look_ at it.

"But Scar," He complains, "We _need_ this!"

"Paul," I chuckle. "We're going to hear it cry, you do realize?"

"This has video," He holds up the very large box and points at the picture on the front.

"The one we got from your mother also has video," I remind him.

"This is HD."

"Put it back."

"Hey, Scar, you realize this is my kid too, right?" Paul places the box back down and then crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at me.

I giggle. "Are you feeling neglected?" I leave the cart to wrap my arm around his side and his hand comes to my ever-growing stomach on instinct. He rubs it in a circle and then kisses me on the side of the head.

"Ignored."

"Paul," I frown and look up at him. "I'm not ignoring you; I just know that if I let you get everything that you want we one, won't have room in our apartment for the _actual_ baby, and two, won't have any money left to pay for said baby."

Paul laughs. His lips pull up at the corners and I can't help but stare at his shining, white teeth and soft, red lips. I turn to face him and feel my stomach press into him as I grasp his hair at the nape of his neck in my hand and press my mouth to his.

Paul kisses back, but I think I can count the few times that he has rejected a kiss on one hand, even after five years of marriage.

"Scarlett," He smiles against my mouth.

I moan and pull away from him. "We need to go home. Now."

Paul laughs. "You're a bad girl pregnant, baby."

"So attractive too," I roll my eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Paul frowns. "You know you're sexy, Scarlett."

"Oh, yeah," I roll my eyes. "I look fat."

"You're _pregnant_."

"I'm four months pregnant. I'm too big to not look pregnant and too small to actually look it. I'm in that weird in-between stage where I puke all the time and people stare at my stomach as they contemplate saying something."

"I think you're perfect." He loops his fingers around the waistband of my jeans and pulls me closer.

"That's very nice of you," I grin and wrap my arms around his neck. I take a deep breath of him; he smells so good, like laundry detergent and a campfire at the same time.

"I am very nice," He agrees.

"Nice enough to leave the store and have a quickie before my doctor's appointment?" I grin hopefully.

Paul throws his head back and laughs.

I frown. This is not a good sign.

"No time, love."

"No love than, _love_."

"Come on, sweetheart," He sighs and hugs me to his side. "What else do we need? Baby bottles, binkis, diapers?"

"The baby shower pretty much covered that," I sigh in defeat. "What we really need now is the bigger stuff."

"Like this high performance baby sleep monitor?"

"Oh no." I have my eyes closed in horror before he even brings the box over to me.

"Scar!" His voice is high and nervous now. "We _need_ this. Like, _need_!"

"Okay. I quit." I push the cart with only one ridiculous, unnecessary item away and then turn towards the exit. "Come on, let's go check on little Lahote."

" _My_ little Lahote?" Paul falls into step next to me.

"No, the other little Lahote that I am about to birth for my other husband."

"You are seriously getting those evil, pregnant hormones today," He tells me.

"Bite me."

"Okay."

Paul squeezes my ass, resulting in a s squeal as the shock sends me falling back. He catches me and wraps his arms tightly around my chest. "Don't be mean to me," He whispers into my ear. "I love you, and your body."

I blush and lean into him. "I'm not, and I know you do. Sorry."

"Yeah, yeah. Jeesh, if I had a nickel for every time you ever said that."

I smack his arm. "That is so not true!"

Paul chuckles and rubs his arm, as if I could ever really hurt him.

It turns out that leaving Target early was actually the right call. There was some construction on the highway to my OBGYN, and so we ended up getting there five minutes late. Once we arrived, we were called right back into an exam room.

I take a seat on the exam table as Paul takes his usual seat in one of the regular chairs next to it.

"Okay, Scarlett, how are you feeling today?" The nurse asks.

"Fine," I sigh.

"Sassy," Paul whispers.

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Has anything changed since your last visit?"

"I don't think so," I answer uneasily. I always hate questions like this. I think I am going to miss something and then panic and then spend the next week thinking that every time I hiccup my baby is slowly dying: just usual, Scarlett thoughts.

"Any abnormal symptoms or pain that you think I should know about?"

"Just a lot of morning sickness, but I think that's normal. And I have been really uncomfortable sleeping lately."

The nurse nods her head and writes something down in her chart. "Can you describe these feelings of uncomfortableness?"

"I'm waking up a lot from pain and then having to readjust." I rub my hand overtop of my stomach subconsciously.

"Okay!" The nurse speaks happily as she writes more down. "I'm going to have you strip from the waist down and then cover yourself with this." I nod my head even before she has finished. "But you know the drill," She smiles.

"I do," I chuckle.

She leaves the room and Paul immediately stands to help me off the table. He sits back down as I struggle out of my ripped jeans and then slide my underwear off.

"Oh?" Paul's eyebrows are raised.

I can't help but blush. "Stop," I complain.

His lip pulls up at the corner in a challenging expression. Before I can really protest, he swats his hand at my bare bottom.

"Paul!" I gasp. "Stop it right now!"

"Why?" He stands and then he takes a nerve-racking step towards me.

"Paul," I warn slowly, though my voice obviously wavers at the end. I need him. I need, need, _need_ him, and looking at him looking at me like this is making it extremely hard to remain subjective.

"What?" He smiles that all-too sensual and knowing smile and I am literally putty in his hands, though I try my hardest to fight the inevitable.

"Paul. We can't." I look nervously towards the door. "Not here."

"Why?" He grasps my hips in his hands and pulls me close. I close my eyes.

"We can't," I whimper."

"Mmm." Paul kisses my temple and wraps one of his arms around my back and pulls me to him. I moan. I can't say no to him when he is like this.

"But they could come in," I voice my concern, although it is obvious in the way that I look up at him nervously that I am more seeking him to disagree and reassure me than agree.

"It always takes them forever," He disagrees. "We have time, baby."

Paul kisses my neck and I can't help but tilt my chin into the air as he holds my head in his palm. He kisses down my neck and then across my jawline and then back again.

I feel his fingers bunch up at my shirt and then feel the tips of his fingers brush my clit.

I gasp and actually shake.

"Oh, baby," Paul murmurs and kisses behind my ear.

I moan. I am probably being way too loud right now, but I could care less. Paul has this ability that I have never ever, ever understood before, to make me feel exceptionally, amazingly, perfectly just _good_. It is addicting; once I experienced it, I can't stop. I need it more. All the time and forever. Having known pain, this is like a drug to me.

"Let me take care of you, baby," Paul kisses my shoulder and I fall into him. I want him _inside_ of me. I want his fingers to curl and curve and swipe and go in and out and out and in. I want it so badly that I find myself pressing my hips into his hand.

Paul slips his finger inside of me and I gasp loudly.

"Is this what you want, baby?" He asks knowingly.

I grasp the back of his shirt tightly in my hand and nod my head, which is currently in the clouds.

I know that we shouldn't. I know that there is a very high chance that the doctor will walk through the door any second and that would be _very_ very bad because we would be exposed and wow.

 _Oh- Wow._

I gasp and clasp my mouth shut to keep from crying out when he presses his finger fully inside of me and then hits that particular spot that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head.

"Paul," I whimper and then bite my lip.

"Mm," His lips are on my neck.

"We can't," I attempt one last ditch effort that not at all convincing and honestly a tad pathetic. "Can't the doctor, like, _tell_?"

Paul's chest shakes as he laughs. He presses his finger deep inside of me and I am forced to bury my face into his shirt to conceal a moan.

He does that particularly amazing thing where he slips two fingers inside of me and then shakes his hand up and down, and I completely lose all sense of self-preservation and entirely give myself over to him.

Paul's thumb rubs against my most sensitive spot as his fingers work, and almost embarrassingly quickly I am at my peak. I grasp his shoulders tightly in my fists and hold on for dear life.

"Oh, Paul," I murmur, throwing my head back and slamming my eyes shut.

Suddenly I am dangling on a cliff, my limbs and muscles tight and brain shutting off, and then in a moment of instant gratification, it all turns back on in an electrical stimulus that completely debilitates me.

I shake involuntarily and my knees buckle and my eyes roll back, but Paul catches me and kisses my temple and whispers dirty things into my ear and I am not sure where I am or what I think or feel or even if I am still alive because I swear nothing in life has ever felt this incredible before.

I come back to and wrap my arms around Paul's neck with a sort of content murmur.

"Better?" Paul rubs my back.

I nod happily into his shoulder. "Mhmm," I breathe.

"I knew you just needed sex," He teases me and then kisses right beneath my ear.

I giggle and push him away. "Maybe, but now I'm screwed! They can tell- really! I'm all…," I blush as my voice trails off.

"Wet?" Paul finishes for me.

"Dear God," I murmur and bite the corner of my lip.

Paul laughs and then walks over to wash his hands. "You better get up on that table Scarlett Lahote," He winks at me. "The doctor may get the wrong idea."

I roll my eyes but am not able to hide my smile- perhaps Paul was right, and the only reason for my bad mood today had been a need for sex.

I try to clean myself up the best that I can before I take a seat on the table with the drape overtop of my lap. By the time the doctor comes in I am completely relaxed and rubbing my belly; Paul and I's prior escapade is nearly forgotten.

"Hi Scarlett," The doctor smiles warmly after she knocked on the door. "Paul."

"Hey doc," Paul reaches for my hand and begins rubbing my palm.

"Hi," I smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful," I blush.

I swear I hear Paul snicker.

"So I hear you're having some pain sleeping, is that right?"

I nod.

"Could you rate that on a scale of one to ten?"

"Well, it's enough to wake me up. And once I'm awake it's about a six."

"So like a nine," Paul reminds her.

I roll my eyes. "I'm fine. That's normal, right? I mean, the baby is pressing on my organs."

The doctor gives me half of a nod and then shrugs. "I am sure everything is fine. There are many reasons why one would have pain sleeping during a pregnancy, but usually the type of pain that you are describing occurs later in the term. It just seems a little early for that, is all. How about you lie down and we'll figure it out."

I swallow harshly as I lie down. The possibility that there could actually be a problem with my pregnancy… with our _baby,_ is debilitating.

"It's fine," Paul reminds me, scooting his chair over to be right next to me. "It's _your_ kid after all, it's probably hungry or something and kicks you while you're sleeping because it thinks it's funny."

I attempt to smile.

"Can you localize the pain for me?" The doctor asks as she pulls my shirt up to reveal my stomach and then pulls the cover so that it is covering my exposed bottom half.

"It's always around here," I place my hand on my left side where the pain usually comes.

"Wow," The doctor murmurs after she examines that spot. "Alright, well, that is a very enlarged liver."

"What?" I squeak.

"What does that mean?" Paul asks. He tightens his hand around mine; I can tell that he is trying to remain calm, but I know him to well to ignore the panic behind his voice.

"It could mean a few different things. Sometimes the baby pushes on different organs. It could have been punctured. Oh, well, hm." She breaks off to place her finger on her chin and then look down at my stomach.

"What?" I ask again, more pushy this time.

"Actually," The doctor begins. "Scarlett, the abuse you suffered- was there abuse around this area?"

I gulp. "Excuse me?"

She reaches for my chart and then scrolls through a few pages. "How long did the abuse last?"

My mouth goes dry.

"Why?"

"15 years," Paul answers for me.

"There is a possibility that the sustained injuries to the stomach could have caused permanent organ damage, which could reveal themselves or get worse with pregnancy."

"I-I," I begin. "B-but that was a long time ago," I stammer.

"Sometimes in cases of extreme abuse, the body heals itself or even provides short-term solutions to long-term problems. There is a possibility that your liver had been severely damaged during that time, but had been masked."

I internally scream.

"B-b-but," I can't stop blinking my eyes and feel like I am faint.

"It's fine, Scarlett," Paul squeezes my hand, his voice more authoritative than usual. "Don't panic. Remember to breathe," He reminds me.

I nod my head.

"So what does that mean for my baby?" I just barely hear myself ask.

"Everything should be okay. I just want to run a few tests and ultrasounds before we go further and figure out a plan. Does that sound alright?"

I nod, but what other choice do I have.

What started as an annual, thirty minute visit, resulted in an entire day spent at a hospital getting test after test after test. Mrs. Lahote actually stopped by to bring us food, though Paul wouldn't let her in; I have a feeling that Paul is worried about anything at all inducing a panic attack.

Over the years my panic attacks have all but vanished, but now being pregnant, the desire to keep them at bay is of even more importance.

By the time the doctor actually comes in with a consensus, we are both tired and emotionally drained. Paul isn't even saying something ridiculous and optimistic to try to make me feel better; we're just waiting, both terrified.

"Okay, so, good news is that we know what is going on."

I blink at her.

"It seems that your stomach lining throughout the years has developed a second layer of extra scar tissue and cushioning. It was hiding an enlarged liver, which is probably a result of trauma as well. Usually an enlarged liver is a sign of another disease, which is why I had been so worried, but some more good news is that in this case, it is not."

Paul breathes a long breath of relief, though I don't breathe. "Oh, so, that's good," Paul nods his head. "Right? That means she's fine!"

The doctors face remains composed. "Not quite. The issue remains that Scarlett's stomach seems to be a slightly non-hospitable place for the baby. With proper care everything should be okay, but I would like to label this a high-risk pregnancy, which leads me to the bad news."

Wasn't that already the bad news?

"I am going to need you to remain on bed-rest with extreme low activity for the duration of your pregnancy. This leads to some complications due to how early you still are in your pregnancy. We are also going to do weekly monitoring visits because the risk of pre-term labor is so much higher.

Neither Paul, nor I move a muscle.

"Scarlett," The doctor places her hand on my shoulder. "This is going to be okay. I do this every day, and I deal with high-risk pregnancies every week. I have delivered countless babies that were high-risk that are alive and well today. We shall just take this one step at a time, alright?"

I nod.

"I'm going to give you two a minute and then come back to discuss proper preparations; is that alright?"

We don't answer, but she leaves anyways.

Once she leaves we barely move. All that I can hear are our breaths and every unspoken word and dropped stomach that are floating all around us.

I suddenly stand up.

"Scarlett?" Paul's voice appears shocked.

"I-I- I need to get out of here," I struggle to get out. I reach for my underwear and quickly slip them on. I think it is then that I realize that I am shaking.

"Scarlett!" Paul stands, terrified.

"I-I-I-I n-n-need to g-go," I stammer. I snatch my pants and blink my eyes tightly together a few times before attempting to put them on. My feet get tangled though, and suddenly I am falling forward, stomach-first into the tile floor.

Paul snatches my arms before I hit the ground and pulls me back up. I feel a pop and then gasp as pain stabs me in the shoulder.

"Shit!" Paul gasps.

I quickly pop my arm back into place, the action coming back to me almost too easily, and then wince.

"Scarlett," Paul grasps my cheeks in his hands and lowers his voice as he tilts his face towards mine. "I'm so sorry- fuck. Are you okay? Is your shoulder okay?"

Pain is radiating throughout my entire arm, but it is a good reminder that I am alive, for everything else is numb.

I nod my head at the ground.

"Scarlett," He speaks again, trying to pull my face back up to meet his gaze.

I shake my head.

"Scarlett," His voice is so soft is breaks me. "Are you hurt?" I don't respond. "Are you okay, baby?"

"No," I finally find my voice, and am surprised when it is filled with tears. "No I am not okay," My voice cracks. "He's gone. He's gone and he's been gone for years yet still he does this. And it was one thing when he did it to me, but now he's doing it to _my_ kid. He's not even here and he's already hurting it. And you promised me that what happened to me wouldn't affect our child, but it is, and I knew it would. And I knew that I would end up hurting it- I just knew it."

My shoulders shake as I cry. Paul's hands are timid and gentle as they slide around my back and push me closer to him. Once I am in the safe confides of Paul's arms, I can't hold it in anymore. I grasp a tight fistful of his shirt and cry into his shoulder.

"Shh," Paul whispers into my ear. "This is _not_ your fault."

That doesn't help.

Paul lifts me up and suddenly I am lying across his lap as he sits down and holds me tightly.

He doesn't say anything, and for once I am happy that he doesn't have the perfect words to say to make this any better. I want to grovel in this; I deserve to feel terrible.

"How's your shoulder?" He whispers in my ear. Paul cups it in his palm and rubs it gently.

"Fine. Let it hurt. It should."

"Scarlett," Paul sighs. "Stop it."

"I'm a terrible mom," I cry.

"Why?" Paul's arms tighten around me. "Because your liver is enlarged? Wow, the worst."

"I can't even be _pregnant_ correctly. How do you think I am going to do when it is actually here?"

"Amazing," He answers without thinking.

"Paul," I moan. "Why do you have so much faith in me? Stop it!"

"No," He states sternly. "I'm not letting you do this."

"Just stop," I sniffle.

"You did nothing wrong."

"I wasn't careful enough," I bite the inside of my cheek, hard.

"You were perfect, Scarlett. You were just as careful as me, and you know that I would never hurt our baby, don't you?"

"Well of course not!" I exclaim.

"Than what the hell would make you think that you would ever be responsible for something like this? Hm? Women have high-risk pregnancies all the time, the doctor said it herself- and you don't think all those mom's are terrible people, do you?"

My voice is weak and soft. "No."

"Than stop being so hard on yourself," He rubs my back. "This could have happened to anyone."

"No it couldn't have," I speak somberly into his shoulder. "This only happened because of _him_."

" _He_ is in hell," Paul spits- there is no denying the venom dripping from his tone. "And he hasn't been around for a long time now. He only has power if you give it to him."

"But this only happened _because_ of him."

"Okay, and if it hadn't- if he never had hurt you- there is just as high of a probability that you would have had another complication, right?"

"Not really."

"Scarlett," Paul sighs. "Don't do this to yourself, please?"

"I'm not doing anything!" I sob loudly. "DIdn't you hear the doctor? I'm not allowed to _move_."

"Shhh," Paul rubs the bottom of my back in small circles. "See, that's not so hard. The baby will be fine."

"Duh it's not that hard!" I exclaim, "But now I'm going to get fat."

Paul's voice falters. "Wh-What?"

"I'm not going to be able to move and you're not going to think I'm hot anymore and then you're not going to want to have sex with me," I hiccup.

"Oh God," Paul murmurs to himself. "Sweetheart, you are so pregnant."

"You're not going to love me anymore!" I suddenly sob.

"Scarlett, are you insane?" Paul chuckles against my ear. "You are fucking perfect. And you're not going to get fat. You're pregnant."

"Fat and pregnant," I sniffle.

"Relax now, baby," Paul kisses the top of my head. "You'll both be fine. That's my job, remember?"

I moan. "Shut up. You're so annoying."

"Well that's nice, sweetie," Paul pats my back.

I sniffle and sit up. I take a deep breath as Paul watches me and then suddenly notice that I still don't have my pants on. "I'm naked," I state.

Paul chuckles and swipes some hair out of my face. "Not yet. Would you like me to help you with that?"

"No," I answer uneasily. "Well- no. No," I finally make up my mind and shake my head adamantly. "Thanks for saving me," I blush.

Paul squints his eyes together and doesn't answer at first. I am a little worried, to be entirely honest, because usually when he looks at me in this way, there is something bothering him.

"Are you okay?" He finally asks.

"What okay are we talking about again? Because I am slightly mentally unstable and that never really goes away."

Paul rolls his eyes. "I'm serious, Scarlett. You don't need to push your feelings down. Do you honestly feel like you're to blame for this?"

"No," I sigh. "No Paul I don't. But I can't help but feel like my childhood is already affecting our child. I wanted to protect it from this. And I know that you said that he's gone, but like I said, there are certain things that will always be here that neither of us can deny. And it's _already_ happening; it's just… upsetting- I don't know, it's hard to explain exactly how that makes me feel."

Paul brushes his hands along my collar and then against my cheeks. "Scarlett," He speaks gently. "Do you really not know how much I worry about being a terrible dad?"

My eyes actually bulge out of my head. "What?" My mouth drops.

He nods, all seriousness. "I never had a dad; I never really had an example. I worry about it all the time."

"B-b-but that's insane!"

Paul chuckles and runs a piece of my hair between his fingers. "Now do you understand how I feel when you say crazy things about being a terrible mom? It's just ridiculous."

I can't help but giggle. "Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right," He smiles widely.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, whatever Lahote."

Paul chuckles and bounces me in his lap. "Want to get pants on now or are we getting freaky?"

"Paul!" I shove against his chest and stand up. "Pants will do."

"Darn it," He winks at me.

"Well," I sigh once I finally get my jeans on. "These barely fit anymore. Not that I will have a need for jeans when I won't be leaving bed for the next five months."

"Why bother with clothes at all?" He asks as he stands. "You stay home all day and then I'll come home and take care of you."

I blush. "Paul Lahote!"

"Sounds like a perfect plan to me!"

"I'm going to be so bored," I moan.

"Want me to get a hospital rolling bed for you and bring you to practices with me?"

"I think that may be the best idea you have ever had- but, _ugh!_ How am I going to finish getting everything I need for the baby's room? We don't have anything because whenever we go shopping all I end up do is talking you out of all your crazy ideas and don't end up actually getting anything."

"You know what this means?" Paul wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close.

"Mm," I moan on instinct. It's the way he's looking at me; my body reacts before my mind has a say in it.

Paul's lips pull up at the corners when he notices my response. "That I get to do all the shopping."

"Lord help me," I moan.

He hugs me tightly and I finally let myself fall into him and stop worrying about anything at all. "It will be fine, Scarlett," He whispers to me. "We can get through anything, you know that."

"Yes," I sigh. He hugs me tighter. "Mmm," I moan, "Home."

I don't have to see him to know that he is smiling.

* * *

 **Paul's POV**

5 months later

"Where is Paul?" I hear her moan out in frustration as I burst through the doors into her hospital room.

"Scar!" I speak, breathless from my running. "Scar, I'm here."

"Paul?" She whimpers.

Her back is to me, so I walk over to her and then swipe her hair behind her ears. "Hi, pretty girl," I kiss her forehead, that is dampened with sweat, and rub her back gently.

"Where were you?" She moans.

"I was at my game, baby," I tell her gently. "I got here as fast as I could."

" _Oh, Paul_ ," She moans.

"Shhh," I gently swipe her hair behind her ear over and over again.

"Ugh!" She screams.

"Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're here!" My mother enters the room and then hugs me fiercely. "Here, Scarlett, honey; I have ice for you."

Scarlett moans.

"She's about to start pushing!" My mom exclaims as she goes over to Scarlett's other side and brushes hair off of her forehead. "Scarlett, I talked to the doctor and she said she'll be in to check if you're ready in a few minutes. Oh, can you believe it? I am going to have a grandchild, _me_!"

She moans again.

"Are you in pain?" I ask her gently.

"Yes I am in pain, Paul!" She suddenly screams. I jump back, not having expected that. "A tiny human is coming out of my _vagina!_ It hurts!"

I bite back a laugh. "You can do it, honey," I kiss the side of her head. "You've been through worse."

She moans. "But this is terrible. I feel like I am being ripped in half. Goodbye to our sex-life while we're at it."

"Scarlett," I laugh. "My mother is in the room."

"I… don't… care," She moans. "It _hurts_. My whole body hurts."

"Shhh," I rub her back in small circles. "I'm here now. Everything's okay."

"Coming from the one who isn't about to expel a baby from a tiny hole in their body."

"Pleasant, Scar."

"Shut up," She moans.

"Hold my hand," I tell her gently.

She turns onto her back with a whimper and then takes my hand, only, about as soon as she does that her face contorts in pain and she suddenly squeezes my hand so tightly, I wonder if I will lose circulation.

"Scarlett?" I ask, panic seeping into my voice.

"It's a contraction," My mom answers my worries. "Don't forgot to breathe, Scarlett."

She lets out a slow, shaking breath between gritted teeth and then whimpers as she throws her head back. "Mmmm," She bites her lip.

"You're doing great, Scar," I kiss her hand. "Just think, after this you'll be able to actually _go places_ again! Imagine- being able to go to the grocery store alone, _wahoo_ , am I right?"

"Paul," She moans. "Ugh!"

The doctor comes through the door right before I am about to send my mom after her. "Hi, Scarlett- Paul, glad you could make it."

I laugh. "I guess I could fit it into my schedule."

She lifts the blanket and then feels underneath Scarlett's gown for a second. "It's definitely push time," She laughs. "This baby has a mind of it's own; baby's already crowning."

" _Now!"_ Scarlett heaves.

"Okay, okay, Scar," I pat her hand.

In the next few minutes, the room fills with medical equipment, gloves, gowns, and a whole lot of people, and quickly after that the doctor removes the thin sheet covering her lower half.

She positions me so that I am holding her one leg up and my mom is holding the other.

I rub the inside of her thigh. "You can do this," I tell her gently.

"Paul," She whimpers.

"Okay, Scarlett," The doctor takes a seat. "Just like we practiced now. On three. One, two. Three!"

" _Ahhhh!_ "

* * *

 **Scarlett's POV**

One second I am screaming, swearing my insides are being ripped in half, and the next a tiny little baby is being laid across my chest and is staring up at me with wide, blue eyes and a curious expression.

My breath catches in my throat.

I swear I am dreaming; in fact, I blink my eyes a few times to make sure that I didn't pass out due to pain and this all isn't some kind of dream.

When I open them again, those beautiful, blue, familiar blue eyes are still staring at me.

"It's a girl!" The doctor says, though it is a faint echo in my ears.

She isn't crying. Not at all. Instead, she is staring up at me, and every few seconds she would blink, though her eyes never wandered from my face.

A lump forms in the back of my throat. I had always imagined this moment, and to be entirely honest, I never quite imagined it like this. I always pictured a screaming baby being placed in my arms as I struggled to keep it under control and realized that I had exactly no idea in hell what to do with it. And now?

I stare down at my daughter. _My daughter._ A daughter that I know I would never, ever, ever hurt or let anyone else hurt in any way, and I feel an odd and overwhelming sense of peace. And a love I didn't think I was capable of aside from Paul, too.

Paul, on the other hand, isn't as composed.

Paul is sobbing. And when I say sobbing, I mean _sobbing._

"Paul," I laugh; I don't think I have ever seen him cry like this in my life. He looks up at me to meet my beaming face with tear-filled eyes.

"Scar," He manages to get out. "It's _you._ "

I giggle and then peer down at her. She is still staring at me, but now her mouth has formed in a tiny, little "o" as she bats her eyelashes closed.

"She's tired," I speak quietly.

I have only held a baby a few times in my life, and those were horrific and terrifying times I must admit, but in this moment, it comes naturally to me as I gently pull her into my arms and cradle her to my chest.

She doesn't have much hair, but from the tiny bit of fuzz that is there, I can tell that she is white, just as blonde as I was when I was a baby; and there is no question where she got her eyes from. There are also certain features that are most definitely Paul; she has beautiful, rich skin that looks tanned and shining. Her cheekbones are a stark contrast to my chubby cheeks, and her jawline is practically an exact replica of her father's face.

"She's so… calm," Paul speaks, astonished.

I giggle and hold my pinkie out, which she grasps easily. Feeling my daughter's tiny, little hand wrapped around my finger is honestly unexplainable. I have never felt so complete in my entire life.

"Parent's, how are we feeling? I can see that baby is just fine." The doctor pulls me from my complete and total state of bliss.

"Perfect," I answer easily.

"I must say, that is the calmest baby I have ever delivered before," She smiles.

"Definitely not yours," Paul whispers in my ear.

I am too happy to even argue with him.

I suddenly look around the room. "Hey, Paul; where did your mom go?"

He appears as confused as I am.

"Oh!" The doctor begins. "Your mother in law ran out of here as soon as she heard the gender and has been telling the news to about everyone in the hospital."  
We both laugh.

"That sounds like her," Paul mumbles.

It takes far longer than I would like for the doctor to finish "cleaning me up," as she referred to it, which means that it took way too long before my perfect, little family could be alone together.

Once we finally were, though, Paul finally got a chance to hold her. He practically melted, and though I hated the feeling of not having her in my arms, or her tiny, little hand wrapped around my finger, seeing Paul hold her was almost as good. He rocked her gently back and forth and kissed her little forehead, and talked to her as sweetly as he talks to me.

The first family member in was Mrs. Lahote, who managed to control herself long enough and stop crying for enough time to actually hold her, though all she could say is "Beautiful," over and over and over again.

After that, I was practically crawling out of bed to be able to hold her again. And as soon as I was holding my perfect, little human in my arms, right where she belongs, I felt a complete and overwhelming calm sensation fill my entire body.

Nessie and Kim come in a while after that, when Paul is lying in bed next to me and I am still holding her. When Embry comes in, I am almost clingy and protective enough to tell him to come back in ten minutes, but then I realize that I will have her for the rest of my _life_ , so I might as well let my best friend hold my child.

"Alright, the gremlin is here," He rubs his hands together. "Let's see her."

I roll my eyes. "She's calm," I smile down at her and brush her cheek. "She hasn't even cried yet."

"Let's see if I can change that."

I feel a growl erupt out of Paul's throat and can't help but laugh. "Cool down over there, dad!"

Suddenly his face contorts in a wide smile. "Dad," He repeats, breathless.

I laugh loudly while Embry pretends to gag.

"And that is why I will never… _ever_ have kids."

"Oh yeah?" I laugh. "And what does Ali think about that?"

Embry's eyes bulge. "We are definitely not at the kid stage yet!"

"I heard you were thinking marriage," I raise an eyebrow at him. While usually this would be a serious problem, Ali is the first girlfriend of Embry's that I actually like... and I mean, really like.

"Contemplating," He sighed.

"I would know more if you ever called me," I counter. "Is she not here? Are you two having problems?"

"Are you going to let me see your kid yet or not?"

"You're having problems, aren't you?" I moan. "Embry, this is the first girl you have ever dated that I have ever really _liked_ , could you please make this work, for my sanity, really! I would not like to re-live the frying pan incident of 2015."

He rolls his eyes. "I blocked it from hitting you."

"Your girlfriend tried to kill me!"

"Can I hold the thing now or no? Jesus Christ, Princess!"

"She is not a thing!" My mouth drops.

"Well she came from you, so she's not normal that's for sure."

"You're right," Paul cuts in, his voice harsh. "She's perfect. You wouldn't be able to understand. You're not… cultured enough for her."

Embry bursts out laughing. "It's a baby! The only culture it's had is Scarlett's vag-,"

Paul hits Embry upside the back of the head before he has a chance to finish, and suddenly, my little baby is crying.

"Oh, oh no!" I gasp. "Paul!"

"Shhh." Paul reaches for her out of my arms and then rocks her gently. "Shhh, Lena. It's okay. Don't cry."

"Lena?" Embry seems to contemplate it for a moment. "Weird."

"You don't like it?" I can't help but grow offended.

"I didn't say that, Princess," Embry rolls his eyes. "It's just different. I don't think I've ever heard it before."

"Well I'm named either after a color or a fictional character and I'm not so bad," I huff.

Embry's face breaks out into a smile. "I like it, Scar. It's pretty."

"Well thank you."

"No way you're holding her," Paul holds her tightly to his chest. "You come in and she suddenly starts crying. I don't think that's a coincidence."

"Paul," I roll my eyes. "Just give her to him."

He takes a while, but eventually he does rest her in his arms. Right now she is in a semi-sleep state, her eyes just barely closed and mouth automatically suckling; I haven't had a chance to feed her yet.

"Wow, that's kinda… freaky," He admits. "She looks so much like you."

"Cuter though," I sigh and lay back.

"Not sure if babies are cute," He cocks his head at her. "I've always viewed babies as tiny alien-" Suddenly, Embry gasps, and I jump up in worry. Lena has opened her eyes, and Embry's are so wide he looks like he had just seen a ghost.

"W-w-wh," He whispers, and then suddenly his expression falls, and his eyes soften. "Lena," Embry says, pulling her higher in his arms and holding her tightly, never breaking eye contact with her.

And as soon as I realize what is going on, I am sobbing.

"Give her to me!" Paul growls. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He demands.

Paul takes her from Embry and immediately Lena beings crying; at that, Paul softens and strokes her cheek as he attempts to scold Embry in a gentler tone.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Not my daughter, you disgusting idiot! Shit- shit! No way, no fucking way!" Paul whispers.

Embry has his eyes trained on Lena, his eyes wide and his knuckles white from grasping the arms of the chair so tightly in his hand.

"L-L-," He looks from me, to Lena, and then finally tears his gaze away to look at me. "Scarlett- Scarlett please stop crying. It's not- it's not. I would never hurt her. You know I would never hurt her. Please don't hate me."

"Hate you?" I manage to get out through the tears.

He appears taken aback.

"Embry, I'm not mad at you," I sob. "I'm so-so-so… happy."

"You're what?" Both Embry and Paul gasp at the same time.

"I'm so happy!" I laugh through tears and sobs and a hiccup. "I-I-W-when I was p-pregnant I just w-wished that if it was a g-girl that she could have her own P-Paul. A-And now I know that she _does_. She has you. I'm so happy!"

Embry smiles so gently, and so widely and authentically, I am not sure I have ever seen him look quite like that before, and then he hugs me. I cry silently into his shoulder.

"Are you kidding? She-she's kidding… right Scar?" Paul's sounds uneasy.

"N-No," I suck in my sobs and pull away from him. "Paul, how could I be kidding? Now Lena doesn't just have two people who love her unconditionally, she has _three._ No one's ever going to hurt her; Embry will make sure of that."

"I will," He answers definitively. "I promise I will."

Paul and I both stop and gawk for a moment. The same guy who struggles being serious for longer than two minutes at a time and makes inappropriate jokes at funerals is suddenly so authentic and serious and sincere.

"I don't-" Paul looks from Lena, to Embry, and then back to Lena. "She's mine. Do you understand that? And you don't _touch_ her. Do you fucking hear me?"

"Paul it's not like th-,"

"Yes, I understand," Embry answers, his voice serious and low.

I suddenly quiet; I feel like I am suddenly out of this conversation.

"We're her parents, Embry," Paul states.

"I know that," Embry whispers back. "All I want is to keep her safe."

Paul nods. One nod, but a nod nonetheless. He looks longingly at Lena, almost like he hates to have to give her away, and then slowly hands her back to Embry. Embry takes her into his arms and I watch as his entire demeanor changes, _softens_ almost, and suddenly he isn't the Embry that I knew, and I think that is because he isn't _my_ Embry anymore, and I love that. I freaking _love_ that.

Everything that Paul was for me; a friend, a protector, a future lover, Embry will be for our daughter. She will never feel alone, or afraid, or lost. She will always have her own Paul, but instead his name is Embry and he is my best friend.

It is impossible for life to get any better than this.

* * *

 **And just like that... Embry's Imprint Story will be up ASAP**! Thanks to everyone for reading and sticking with me! Thank you for all the reviews and encouraging words- I love you all and can't wait to write a new story! Thanks for everything, see you soon :)


	38. Announcement!

I know that I got a lot of questions about doing a Seth Imprint story, so I thought that I would make an announcement that since I finished "The Ponté: Embry's Imprint Story" I just recently began writing, "Haunted: Seth's Imprint Story."

Seth's story is up and rolling and no, you do not need to read Embry's story to read Seth's! xoxo


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